The Art of Compromise: Why Giving In Isn’t Always Giving Love

One of the well known triggers of difficulties in relationships is the struggle to reach a compromise. Compromise is unavoidable. In a close relationship, it is essential to know how to let go, remain flexible, and sometimes act beyond what feels comfortable. Yet when we do not know how to compromise correctly, the attempt itself can cause more harm than good.

To understand this, it is helpful to begin with the concept of interpersonal relationships, which plays a central role in every area of life and especially in partnerships. In the tractate Gittin 58, the Gemara recounts the story of a carpenter’s apprentice who, through cunning manipulation, caused his master to divorce his wife and fall into severe debt. The apprentice then married the former master’s wife. The master was reduced to serving them, while they sat and ate as he attended to them. Tears fell from the master’s eyes into their cups, and at that moment a decree was issued for the destruction of the Temple.

The Yavetz comments on this story that it teaches us about a transgression not explicitly listed among the major sins, yet one that is extraordinarily severe. It is the violation of the principle: what is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. Its gravity is such that an entire community can be punished because of it.

There is no doubt that consideration for others is a supreme value, and that peace in the home cannot exist without compromise and flexibility. Still, like everything in life, there is a correct way to approach it. Many people assume that the more sacrifices and concessions there are in marriage, the deeper and better the relationship must be. While this idea is understandable, it is not always true. Not every concession is beneficial, and not every compromise leads to closeness.

Knowing When and How to Yield

Consider the following example. A husband asks his wife not to go to her parents’ home for dinner on Shabbat. She becomes sad and expresses how important it is to her. Seeing her distress, he gives in. They go, but he does not enjoy himself. Resentment builds inside him. He thinks, “I always give in. This isn’t fair. I should have stood my ground.” His frustration shows. He is quiet, distant, and perhaps even makes subtle remarks.

On Saturday night, his wife says, “It’s a shame we went. If you’re going to be like this, I’d rather not go at all.” Now the husband feels even more upset. Not only did he concede and agree to something he did not want, but his effort is unappreciated and dismissed.

Both spouses pay the price. The atmosphere becomes filled with bitterness and disappointment because the concession was not made in the right way. What was needed was not simple yielding, but a true compromise. A compromise is a solution that both sides can agree to and feel at peace with.

A good compromise is one that is forgotten shortly after it is made. It does not linger in the mind. There is no replaying of who was right, who gave more, or who lost. It brings calm and restores harmony. A compromise that continues to provoke inner arguments and feelings of injustice is not a healthy one and carries no benefit.

A proper compromise can be understood as a calculated risk. A person weighs the likelihood of a positive outcome against the discomfort involved. The husband may think, “There is a chance I will not enjoy this dinner, for various reasons. But there is also a strong chance that my wife’s happiness will create warmth and closeness between us. And if I compromise this Shabbat, she may be more willing to meet me halfway next time.” Whether or not this calculation is fully conscious, it allows the compromise to be made without a sense of loss.

Conditional Love and Everyday Reality

When people hear this idea, they often resist it. They argue that compromise should come purely from love, not from calculation. They fear this turns love into something conditional. After all, Pirkei Avot teaches that love dependent on something disappears when that thing is gone, and the ideal is unconditional love.

This sounds lofty, but it is also a misunderstanding. The Maharal of Prague explains that genuine love is made up of both elements. Unconditional love forms the deep foundation of a marriage, but daily life is built largely on conditional love. Encouragement, appreciation, mutual effort, and emotional responsiveness all create closeness and affection. There is nothing shameful about this. The sages do not say conditional love is false. They only warn that if the condition disappears, so may the love.

To prevent that from happening, couples must preserve and nurture the conditions that bind them. Shared interests, children, conversations, cooperation in managing life, and emotional investment all strengthen the bond. The more these are cultivated, the more stable the relationship becomes.

Conditional love is unavoidable, and it should not be avoided. It is the form of love that sustains everyday life. When its foundations are healthy and authentic, it strengthens the relationship rather than weakens it.

The belief that only unconditional love is legitimate often leads to improper yielding. A person suppresses their own needs to prove that their love is pure and selfless. They give in repeatedly, convincing themselves that this is what real love requires. But unmet needs do not vanish. They accumulate beneath the surface, eventually producing resentment, frustration, and emotional withdrawal. Over time, such a person may swing to the opposite extreme and refuse to compromise at all, concluding that concessions only lead to pain.

Compromise, however, can be deeply beneficial when done correctly. One clear sign of a successful compromise is inner calm afterward. Once the decision is made, both partners move on without lingering bitterness or mental scorekeeping. True compromise brings tranquility.

Creating a Healthy Compromise

To reach a fair compromise, each partner must feel that what truly matters to them has been acknowledged. When a person feels seen and fulfilled, giving becomes easier. When they feel overlooked or depleted, generosity becomes difficult.

This requires open communication. It is both permissible and necessary to express what we give and what we need. The tractate Shabbat teaches that one who gives a gift must inform the recipient, and Rashi explains that this fosters love. In a relationship, there is no virtue in silent sacrifice. Partners are meant to rely on each other and to need one another.

There is no place for keeping score, but it is healthy to say, “I am giving, and I also need something in return.” When a person compromises on something important and does not communicate it, their partner may never realize the depth of that sacrifice. Without expression, appreciation cannot grow.

A good compromise is not about self erasure. It is about mutual awareness, honest communication, and a shared desire for peace. When done well, it strengthens the bond instead of weakening it.