From Self-Pity to Presence: Reclaiming Feminine Strength

“He has promised so many times that he will change. Each time, I build new expectations, and each time he disappoints me. I’ve already given up,” Dafna said in despair.

“Why do you want him to change?” I asked gently. “What is wrong with him?”

“What’s wrong?” she burst out. “The way he speaks to me. I feel like he’s doing me a favor by being my husband, by being the father of our children. What kind of woman deserves to live like this?” Her voice trembled with emotion.

“You deserve to feel your best,” I replied. “You deserve happiness.”

“There’s nothing I can do anymore. I’m getting a divorce. There’s no other solution.”

“That is one possible option,” I said calmly. “But I would like us to explore another path. To try something different.”

“What?” she asked, startled.

Turning the Focus Inward

“To shift the focus inward, toward you.”

“What?” she exclaimed in shock.

“You need to understand a basic principle. We cannot change another person. The other is an independent being, with their own will and choices. No one can dictate what another should feel or think. What you can decide is how you will change.”

“And if I change, will it affect him?” she asked quietly.

“When there is love and respect in a relationship, when there is closeness alongside boundaries, the relationship is healthy. The more you are connected to yourself, the more a natural process takes place. The walls of the home, meaning the boundaries, become stronger.”

“Many women,” I continued, “out of kindness, accommodation, and the desire to please, do not stand firmly within their boundaries.”

“The emotional and experiential cycles that take place within a woman are the foundation upon which the marital relationship is built. You shape the structure, the container, into which the man brings his strengths. Your sensitivity to what is inaccurate or lacking must be expressed assertively within the relationship.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve tried to explain this to him,” she said helplessly. “I’m exhausted.”

Assertiveness Is Not Explanation

“Explaining is not assertiveness,” I replied. “Try to remember the days when he pursued you. If you had not stood firmly in who you were, if you had not embodied what was right for you, he would not have responded at all. That assertiveness existed within you once. Where did it go?”

“It often fades under cultural pressure, social expectations, and a loss of self confidence. Over time, a distancing process occurs. You slowly disconnect from the natural, healthy place that exists within you.”

“To illustrate this,” I continued, “let’s look at a verse from Genesis that forms the foundation of the Jewish home: ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and cling to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.’”

“This teaches us that a man must connect to his wife and her needs, while a woman must remain connected to herself, because she is the foundation of the relationship.”

“When a woman is not connected to herself, even if a man tries endlessly to connect to her, true unity cannot exist. The relationship floats without grounding.”

“When a woman is connected to herself, she will not allow her husband to be disconnected from her. She stands firmly and assertively within the relationship, with her desires, her presence, and the vessel she creates to receive what her husband brings.”

Losing Trust in Yourself

“You’ve given up,” I said softly. “You stopped believing in your ability to connect to yourself. Your trust in Hashem and in how He runs the world has weakened. Fear has taken over. Fear that your husband will leave you, fear of how others will see you, fear that you are not enough.”

“These fears create destructive patterns that deepen the distance between you.”

I offered her a metaphor.

“Think of the woman as the soil of the relationship, meant to grow fruit trees. The man brings water. The woman gives her body and soul to be fertile ground for the home to thrive.”

“But instead of water, the man brings sand and stones, whatever is convenient for him.”

“The soil dries out. The woman becomes depleted.”

“This reflects a situation where the man gives, but not in a way that truly nourishes her. In response, the woman tries to switch her feminine language to a masculine one, hoping he will finally understand. Then, in desperation, she tries to supply herself with the strength he should have provided, while pushing her own needs aside.”

Why the Relationship Breaks Down

“But why does this create such a deep disconnect?” she asked.

“Because the connection becomes inauthentic,” I replied. “Hashem created laws in the world. When water is not given in the right measure, the roots begin to rot, and all the broken branches are a result of that.”

“When the man waters with sand and stones, the woman uses what little water remains to nourish him, hoping he will finally notice her needs. This only drains her further and accelerates the collapse of the relationship.”

“Do you understand,” she said bitterly, “that Ronen still expects me to pamper him? To give him massages? That if he does something, I owe him something in return?”

“That is a serious foundational error,” I said. “When a man gives water to the soil, the soil does not return the water. It transforms it into fruit. Into children. Into a home. If he expects the water back, it means the woman is no longer rooted in her place, and it shows how far she has drifted from herself.”

“When you are connected and assertive, this expectation will disappear. He will be grateful for the fruits you bring and will continue to give. But you must insist on your expectations.”

Expectation and Self Pity

“I’ve stopped expecting anything,” Dafna admitted. “I wanted him to see me, to care, to insist on me, to notice the subtleties. But I gave up.”

“Expectation is healthy,” I said. “What you gave up on was not expectation, but hope. Because your expectation became tangled with self pity.”

“Self pity?” she asked.

“Yes. The inner dialogue of ‘Why doesn’t he care about me?’, ‘What’s wrong with me?’, ‘How worthless am I?’”

Separating Expectation from Self Pity

“There are two forces here that cannot coexist,” I explained. “Expectation and self pity. They must be separated.”

“Expectation is a healthy desire for connection and unity.”

“Self pity creates separation.”

“Many women today abandon expectation entirely, convincing themselves they should not expect anything. This is a deep weakness. A woman who no longer dares to be expectant has lost her feminine power.”

“To be expectant is to be a woman.”

“Why does this happen?” Dafna asked.

“Fear of pain. Ego. But the courage to expect is true strength. Without expectation, there is no connection.”

“But expectation feels unbearable for me,” she said.

“Because disappointment immediately turns into self pity,” I replied. “And that self pity is an escape from meeting yourself honestly.”

Meeting Yourself Honestly

“What does it mean to meet myself?” she asked.

“It means asking: What truly gives me worth? Not through comparison, not through being chosen over something else, but through who I am.”

“When all your value depends on being more important than his work or hobbies, that value is imaginary. Real value does not come from comparison.”

“This is one of the secrets of life,” I told her. “To remain in expectation without falling into self pity.”

“How?” she asked.

“Like a child expects from a parent. Cleanly. Innocently. Without ego. Children expect endlessly, without despair. Self pity enters later, when ego appears.”

Choosing Expectation Without Collapse

“I choose to expect,” I said. “I will not abandon expectation, and I will not turn it into self pity. Around expectation, connection exists. Without it, there is nothing.”

“And when I feel like saying ‘Enough, I’m tired’?” she asked.

“That is self pity,” I answered gently.

“So how do I not break?”

“By correcting where your sense of worth comes from. Your husband does not define your value.”

“The work is to ask: What does Hashem want from me? What gives me value beyond being chosen?”

“This is not an idealistic dream,” I concluded. “This is the deep and demanding role of a woman in building a relationship and a Jewish home. To be firmly connected to herself, to trust in that connection, and from that place to demand connection from her husband. Otherwise, what remains is scorched earth.”