When Giving Feels Like Losing Yourself: The Hidden Cost of Sacrifice

“You know what? I’m done. Is this how my life is going to look forever? I’m always doing things for her, and she’s never satisfied. When is this going to end?” Amir complained.

“I can’t believe it,” Odalia shot back angrily. “After everything I’ve done for this relationship, you still have the nerve to complain? You should accept everything I ask of you with love and be grateful that I even let you fix the house you ruined with your own hands.”

“I’m struggling,” Amir continued. “We used to have a good relationship. Life was better before this crisis. I did what I wanted, rode my bike, met friends, worked when I felt like it, and overall, things were good.”

“We were good?” Odalia snapped. “Maybe you were good.”

“I don’t think there was anything truly good in your relationship,” I said to both of them.

The Nature of Sacrifice in Relationships

“First, we need to understand the concept of sacrifice in a relationship.

“There is no relationship in the world without sacrifice. In fact, there is no meaningful choice in life that doesn’t involve sacrifice.

“For example, Amir, if you decide to study, you are automatically sacrificing your time and giving up other activities you could have done.”

“But why do I always feel like there’s no balance?” Amir asked. “I feel like I’m constantly sacrificing myself without any relief. Why am I expected to buy gifts, to court my wife, to keep giving? Why shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“The woman is the heart of the relationship,” I explained. “She is the place where the relationship unfolds. She carries life, gives birth, encompasses the home, and holds everyone inside her, including you, Amir, if she has space left,” I added with a gentle smile.

“So when do I get to receive something?” Amir asked. “What exactly is my role? It sounds like I’m unnecessary.”

“The role of the man,” I answered, “is essential. Without it, the relationship cannot exist. He pumps the blood into the system, into the heart, into his wife.”

“But pumping blood is also sacrifice,” Amir insisted. “Why does it feel so unequal?”

“Because you’re keeping a ledger,” I said. “You don’t yet understand the position you’re in.

“To pump blood means to give from the soul. When you recognize the power of that role, the burden transforms into a deep sense of freedom.”

Giving the Right Kind of Giving

“How do I do that?” Amir asked.

“When you court your wife, buy what she loves, invest your energy and abilities into her, that is the blood you pump into the relationship. As a result, Odalia can thrive and bring goodness into the home, into the children, and back to you. Light reflects back.”

“But I did give,” Amir protested. “There were times I gave everything, and it was still never enough.”

“You gave,” Odalia replied, “but not what I needed.”

“One of the most common mistakes,” I explained, “is misunderstanding the precision required in giving. You need to learn what Odalia needs and how to give it in the right way.”

“When the giving is not suited,” I continued, “it is unconsciously rejected.”

“So I’m supposed to guess?” Amir asked helplessly.

“This is your mental sacrifice,” I said. “Learning her emotional language, understanding the right dosage, and doing so with sensitivity. Often, even she can’t articulate what she needs. You must learn to feel your way in the dark.”

“And sometimes I do say what I need,” Odalia added, “and he still can’t do it.”

“That’s because this work requires breaking one’s identity,” I replied. “It demands drawing strength from places that feel impossible. It is indeed very hard.”

When Sacrifice Is Required After Damage

“I don’t think it will help anymore,” Odalia said quietly. “Something died inside me. It feels too late.”

“I understand,” I said. “You are in despair and need restoration.

“In a healthy relationship, the man initiates the flow of giving through courting and commitment and continues sustaining it. From the verse, ‘A man should be free for his home for one year and make his wife happy,’ we learn that the first year requires full sacrifice to establish the system.”

“He didn’t do that,” Odalia said bitterly. “He was busy with his career.”

One Time Injury Versus Destructive Damage

“Let’s distinguish,” I said. “If there is a one time injury such as dismissal, neglect, or insult, the repair requires increased giving until forgiveness is restored.

“But if the damage is destructive,” I continued, “then the situation is different.”

“That’s where we are,” Amir admitted. “She won’t let me compensate.”

“Yes,” I said, “because the injury was deep. Before anything else, you must pray to even be allowed entry into her heart.”

“And if she can’t open that door,” I added, “the relationship remains stuck until she chooses whether to risk trust again.”

“I’m afraid that opening the door means forgiving,” Odalia said angrily.

“It doesn’t,” I replied. “It means allowing repair. Allowing yourself to receive.”

Intensive Care for a Relationship

“So what’s different now?” Amir asked.

“The form of sacrifice,” I said. “This is no longer routine repair. This is intensive care.

“You must give continuously, with no expectation of return. Immense selflessness is required.”

“And her role?” Amir asked.

“To allow herself to receive. Even that is a form of selflessness.”

Fear of Exploitation

“But she could exploit this,” Amir worried.

“You’re still misunderstanding,” I said. “Sacrifice is meant to bring closeness. There is no exploitation here.

“If Odalia allows you to give, it’s not selfishness. It is courage. Exploitation exists only when someone stands outside the relationship. Odalia lives for this home. Her willingness to receive is her sacrifice.”