When Love Depends on Security: Why Effort Isn’t Enough

“It’s over for us. We can’t revive our love anymore.

“I can’t feel the love I once had for Danny. And I know he’s really trying,” Iris said quietly. “That’s why I don’t even know what this therapy can help with. It feels like cups of wind for the dead.”

“Can you think about why you married Danny?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied. “He was calm. He projected control and tranquility. I felt a strong inner sense that I could trust him.”

“Iris,” I said, “what you truly received from Danny was a sense of security.”

“That’s true,” she admitted.

“I don’t understand,” Danny said in despair. “Today I give you three times the attention and care I gave you at the beginning. I’m the same person. What changed? It’s incredibly frustrating.”

“It’s painful for me to say this,” Iris turned to him, “but I want to be honest. I don’t feel that I love you anymore.”

When Love Is Tied to Security

“That same sense of security you received from Danny,” I said to Iris, “was also the central interest that drew you to him.”

“Interest?” she reacted sharply. “I loved him. He was charming, friendly, funny. What does interest have to do with love?”

“Until today,” I explained, “your love was dependent on how much security Danny gave you. When you began receiving less of that security, you started feeling emptiness, a lack, inside the relationship.”

“Unconsciously,” I continued, “you tried to restore that sense of security. Because that’s what your love was built on.”

“That makes me feel terrible,” Iris said defensively. “You’re turning my love into something selfish. I’m not like that.”

“It’s frightening to discover that what you called love was actually dependent love,” I replied gently. “But this doesn’t mean your need was shallow. You have a deep emotional need for security. That need is real.”

The Silent Demonstration

“At some point,” I asked, “do you remember how you reacted when you began receiving less security from Danny?”

“I didn’t do anything,” she said quickly. “I didn’t even notice a change.”

“What happened,” I explained, “was something the soul does very naturally. You began demonstrating your lack.”

“I don’t remember doing that,” she said skeptically.

“A demonstration doesn’t have to be dramatic,” I said. “It can appear as coolness. Less warmth. Fewer smiles. A subtle signal that says: I’m missing something.”

“I can really identify with that,” Danny interjected. “I remember feeling that shift.”

“And automatically,” I continued, “Danny felt your lack and tried to compensate. He worked harder. He gave more. But something paradoxical happened.”

When Effort Makes Things Worse

“You weren’t just looking for security,” I explained. “You were looking for a very specific kind of security. A particular stance. A frequency that only Danny knows how to transmit.”

“When that diminished, he could buy gifts, shower you with words, do endless acrobatics, and it wouldn’t help. You still didn’t receive what you needed.”

“I give her everything,” Danny burst out. “More than any husband I know. Even her friends say that.”

“You give me everything,” Iris replied quietly, “but not what I need.”

“But what do you need?” Danny pleaded. “Please explain it to me.”

“Sometimes,” I said, “it’s something very subtle. A look. A tone. A particular smile.”

“The signal Iris is sending you,” I continued, “that you can’t give her what she needs, makes you feel insecure as a husband.”

“I realize I don’t know how to give her what she needs,” Danny said helplessly.

“And here lies the paradox,” I said. “In trying to extract security from him, Iris, you unintentionally weaken his ability to provide it.”

Redefining Love

“So what am I supposed to do?” Iris asked. “In the beginning, it wasn’t like this. Why can’t it go back?”

“Because the signal he receives erodes his confidence,” I answered. “His sense that he’s disappointing you creates distance between you.”

“How do we fix this?” she asked.

“First,” I said, “we separate the feeling from the cause. You feel insecure. Even if Danny triggered it, the feeling now belongs to you.”

“Until now, your instinct was to seek security from your partner. But reality has shown you that clinging to him didn’t give you what you needed.”

“This realization changes the definition of love,” I continued. “Your previous definition was that love is receiving something that makes staying worthwhile.”

“That’s dependent love. It isn’t healthy.”

“Healthy love,” I said, “is choosing, from your own desire, to see the other, to take interest in his inner world, and to build connection.”

“Everything flips here.”

Turning the Equation Around

“It sounds theoretical,” Iris resisted. “Like something that doesn’t work in real life.”

“To untangle this knot,” I replied, “you must change your thinking.”

“If you feel a lack of security, try a different approach. Instead of demanding security from Danny, allow yourself to feel the lack, and from there, reach toward him.”

“The sentence ‘You give me, but not what I need’ transforms into ‘I will give you what I need.’”

“When you give Danny trust and presence,” I concluded, “his confidence returns. His natural ability to give resurfaces. And from that place, he can offer you what he truly has.”

This column was inspired by Rabbi Eliyahu Levy’s course, Root Therapy in Marriage.