“Marriage Takes Work” Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Does

You knew marriage would be work.

You expected hard conversations. “Compromise”. The constant recalibration that happens when two adults are learning how to stay connected while managing groceries, gut health, and generational trauma - never mind dodging Legos. You even braced for seasons of disconnection—because you’re realistic like that.

But what you’re feeling now? The second-guessing, over-analyzing, and soul-numbing depletion? You didn’t see that coming - and you shouldn’t have.

Because that isn’t what people mean when they say “marriage is hard” - a phrase gets thrown around like confetti, but it rarely comes with a definition. And when you try to explain what your marriage feels like, it doesn’t land. You’re met with clichés. Or silence. Or worse, someone saying, “All relationships take work,” as if that should explain why you’re quietly unraveling while still showing up for dinner and drop-offs.

But what if the kind of work you’re doing isn’t the kind relationships are supposed to require?

“Marriage Takes Work” Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Does

Yes—relationships require effort. They require collaboration. They require that both people show up, stretch, learn, and grow. But the work you’ve been doing isn’t growth - it’s emotional maneuvering.

• Rewording your thoughts mid-sentence so they don’t sound “too critical”

• Tiptoeing around a topic because last time, it didn’t go well.

• It’s choosing not to say how you feel because you already know how he’ll respond.

You call it being mindful. Thoughtful. Avoiding unnecessary drama. But really? You’re running silent damage control. And it’s exhausting.

What you’re doing isn’t building a relationship—it’s preserving one by holding your breath. You’re constantly calculating: how much of me can I show without causing friction? How can I express this in a way that lands gently, safely, ideally not at all? It’s not connection—it’s choreography. 

It’s not that you’re not doing enough. 

It’s that you’re doing everything except what matters. And if you’re wondering why you’d do that…well, in a word? Safety. 

The Deeper Fear—You’re Not Avoiding Conflict. You’re Avoiding Being Seen.

You learned early on—probably before your adult teeth even came in—that peace was your job. Keeping things smooth also kept them safe. That your needs were the pebble in everyone else’s shoes, the thing that made everything harder.

So you became fluent in vibe management:

• You learned how to read a room before you even stepped into it.

• You learned how to shrink tension without being asked.

• How to adjust your tone, your volume, your timing—so nothing tipped too far.

And the better you got at managing interactions, the safer things felt—less chaotic, more predictable, easier to control. And now? These days, the better you are at it, the easier it is to avoid asking the question you’ve never wanted to answer: What happens if I stop?

Some part of you knows that if you stop buffering, you don’t just risk discomfort - you risk clarity.

And frankly, clarity can be a real bitch sometimes. She’s undeniable. Confident. She’s not gonna tell you what you want to hear, she’s gonna tell you what you need to hear. 

And she’s also your way through.

The Internal Shift That Changes Everything

Finding clarity isn’t your problem - choosing the clarity you already have is. 

You already know what’s not working. You know the patterns. You can name the dynamic. You’ve read the books, bookmarked the posts, and probably explained the issue better than your therapist could.

But you keep circling the same question—What should I do?—without letting yourself land on an answer, opting instead to chase more insight or a better strategy for how to bring it up. 

You’re not missing information or strategy—you’re avoiding impact. And in doing so, you’re robbing the relationship of the tension that, more often than not, is necessary for change.

The internal shift you need to make is this: building the internal safety to tolerate tension when it shows up. Because real change in a relationship doesn’t come from saying things perfectly. It comes from being able to hang in there with the discomfort long enough for something new to take shape

And here’s the part most women don’t realize—this shift is always available to you, even if nothing around you changes. You don’t have to wait for him to get it. You can start showing up with the truth you already have and loosening your grip on controlling what happens next. 

What Happens When You Stop Managing the Outcome

This is where the real work begins. And when you stop managing other people’s reactions, it won’t feel peaceful at first. It will feel loud. 

The part of you that’s used to smoothing things over will panic - she’ll beg you to clarify. To soften. To take it back before things get more uncomfortable. Almost everything in you will want to jump back in and make it okay again.

BUT - if you pay attention, there will be another voice, too. One that says, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you shrink this. Don’t you walk it back. Don’t you soften the truth just because it made someone uncomfortable.”

And suddenly, the hardest part isn’t what you said—it’s the storm inside you after you’ve said it.

And when it hits, that storm will make you feel like you’re doing something wrong - but you’re not. You’re just doing something different. And different nearly always feels like danger - at least at first.

So, without even noticing it, your system will default to doing what it’s always done—handing control to the part of you that has historically kept things safe inside by maneuvering around what’s happening outside.

But if you do notice it, you can make the shift.

The one where you sit beside that part while she panics. The one where you stay calm, even as everything in her screams to fix it - to help in the only way she knows how. The one where you hug her and say, “I know this feels urgent. We’re okay right now. Let’s wait a bit and see what happens.”

And that shift changes everything. 

It’s how you let other people have their reactions but without them seeping into you anymore (which - Future You wants you to know:  that’s what necessitated all the maneuvering in the first place). She says, “When you’re not an emotional quicker-picker-upper, you can stay grounded long enough to see what actually happens next. Not what you’ve braced for, not what you’ve predicted, not what you’ve managed into being. What’s real.”

Peace doesn’t live in the outcome. It lives in your ability to stay—rooted, present, intact—when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.

And that ability isn’t found in your carefully crafted subtlety.
It’s built through self-trust.
And that’s exactly what we rebuild inside Divorce Detour.

You Need A Divorce Detour

Let’s get this part out of the way—yes, it’s called Divorce Detour. And I know, the second you read that name, your chest probably tightened. Maybe it felt like a suggestion. Maybe it sounded like a foregone conclusion. Maybe it scared the hell out of you. That’s okay.

Divorce Detour isn’t about fixing your marriage. It’s about giving you a place to land when everything feels murky and impossible, and no part of you wants to keep doing what you’ve been doing.

It’s not about deciding whether you stay or go. It’s about what happens when you stop abandoning yourself to hold the relationship together. When you shift your focus from external conflict to internal clarity. When you stop managing his reactions and start staying with your own. When you move on from contorting yourself into someone “easy to be with,” you and start leading yourself from a place that feels honest and intact.

Divorce Detour isn’t all about divorce. It’s about rebuilding the connection you have with yourself. The you that got buried under all the emotional maneuvering. The you that tells the truth—even when it’s hard. The you that can handle whatever comes next.

Because whether the marriage makes it or not—you can.
And you deserve to.

Seek Support From A Relationship Therapist in St. Louis, MO

You don’t need another couples workbook. You need someone who sees how hard you’re trying not to fall apart. As a St. Louis relationship therapist, I offer IFS therapy, therapy for women, and IFS therapy for therapists who are done performing wellness and ready to feel like themselves again. You can learn more on the about page, or find yourself reflected in something I’ve already said over on the blog.