When Anger Isn’t the Issue: What Really Breaks a Relationship

When the Levi couple walked into my clinic, I immediately sensed the tension in the air. Of course, the details have been altered, and we will leave aside the question of who this story is really about.

It was the wife who reached out for help. She described deep suffering alongside a husband she experienced as selfish and lacking boundaries. Her goal, as she presented it, was to receive guidance on how to fix her husband’s problems.

She opened the session with a painful outpouring.

“We’ve been married for seventeen years. We’ve tried everything, and nothing works. My husband doesn’t care about anything. Not about me, not about the children, not about their education or their spiritual world. I don’t understand why he got married, why he wanted children, or even why he wears a kippah. He’s at work all day and doesn’t really keep anything religious. What matters to him is checking the boxes: married, family man, Orthodox. It looks impressive on paper, but there’s no substance behind it. Hardly any Torah learning, hardly any prayer with a minyan. And the kids already learned from him. They do whatever they want, and he doesn’t correct them.”

“You’re completely wrong,” her husband interrupted. “Just last night I sat and learned with Yisrael. We reviewed all the Mishnayot.”

“Wonderful,” his wife snapped. “You finally opened a book after weeks of Yisrael begging you. And I can sign that it lasted exactly three minutes. What kind of children do you want us to raise? Empty children glued to a screen?”

The Surface Conflict

“The thing is,” she continued, “this week he bought a smartphone and hid it from the kids. Does he really think they’re naïve? Children sense everything. So what do they learn? That it’s fine to do whatever you want and hide it from your children.”

At that point, the woman burst into uncontrollable tears.

Her husband grew anxious. He leaned toward her and said pleadingly, “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t realize the phone bothered you this much. I’ll seriously consider returning it.”

I stopped them gently. “Let’s pause and try to understand what each of you is feeling right now.”

“I think,” the wife said, “that maybe he’s starting to understand me.”

“What makes you feel that?” I asked.

“That he sees how much it hurts me.”

I turned to the husband. “And what are you feeling?”

“I understand that it really hurts her,” he replied. “She can’t stand it.”

“Alright,” I said. “If that’s the case, then the problem has been solved, and our meetings are unnecessary.”

There was a moment of silence. The couple reflected, and then the wife spoke again.

“This is exactly what always happens. He understands, apologizes, promises. And then a few days later, everything goes back to how it was.”

The Repeating Pattern

“So what do you do then?” I asked.

“I explode,” she answered. “I yell, I get upset with everyone, sometimes I leave the house for hours. He promises to change, to consider what’s important to me, but promises don’t turn into actions.”

I turned to the husband. “When your wife started crying, you immediately promised to return the phone. Do you actually want to return it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “What matters to me is that my wife is calm. If this will make her feel better, then it’s worth it.”

I turned back to the wife. “If he returns the phone tomorrow, will everything be fine?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. “Because the very fact that he bought it means this is who he is. He doesn’t care about his spiritual life or our family’s direction. He might return the phone, but it won’t change him.”

“So what you’re saying,” I reflected, “is that you want to change your husband completely. His worldview, his behavior, his choices. In other words, you want him to be a different person.”

She fell silent.

Who Is Responsible for Change

I turned to the husband. “You also don’t really know who you are. If every emotional reaction from your wife causes you to shift directions, have you ever asked yourself what you want? What matters to you? What kind of father you want to be? There is a perfect dynamic here. You allow your wife to manage you, and she gets pulled into the role. She becomes emotionally overwhelmed, and you react out of fear.”

“I’m actually glad this is coming up,” the wife said. “I never understand who he is or what’s important to him.”

“Why is it so important for you to understand that?” I asked.

“Because he confuses me and the kids. On one hand, he sends them to the best schools. On the other hand, when he’s tired, he puts on movies for them.”

“And what happens inside you?” I asked.

“I get upset and confused.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know who we are as a family. What our line is. What we stand for.”

“Perhaps your husband has a different line,” I said quietly, “and you’re struggling to accept that it doesn’t match your expectations.”

Again, silence.

Beneath the Anger

Suddenly, the woman stiffened. I asked what had happened.

She had heard a notification sound from her husband’s smartphone.

This was a moment to slow everything down. “You speak about anger,” I said, “but I sense fear here. Let’s connect to what you’re feeling right now.”

She took a deep breath. “Every time I hear a message come in, I hate the people he’s messaging.”

“Why?”

“Because they matter more to him than I do. In those moments, I feel worthless. Invisible.”

I thanked her for the honesty.

This was the turning point.

A New Direction

For seventeen years, she had tried to educate her husband. He, in turn, had never stopped to ask who he was or what he truly wanted. He only reacted when her emotions exploded. Now, for the first time, both were invited into a deeper process.

She began to ask herself who she is, whether she has the strength to define her values and stand behind them, even without full support. She began to question which issues truly matter to her and which ones she had used to avoid facing her own insecurity. Most importantly, she began to ask how secure she feels in her own worth.

And the husband was invited, perhaps for the first time, to clarify himself. What matters to him, and what does not. He had leaned comfortably on his wife’s intensity, adjusting only when forced. In truth, he had never been given the space to discover who he really is.

Only now could that work begin.

Rabbi Aryeh Ettinger is a counselor and the founder of a school for training couple counselors.