“I Don’t Matter to Him”: Inside the Struggles of Modern Relationships

David and Hannah came to me for a consultation after reaching a deep sense of helplessness.

Hannah was the first to speak.

Hannah’s Pain

“From the outset, I’ll say that we’re very self aware,” she began. “We’ve come a long way and have already been through several therapists, so I’ll try to be brief. My husband is very far from the way a man is meant to behave.

“During our engagement, he seemed wonderful. He knew how to say the right words, how to spoil me, how to project strength. Even in our first year of marriage, the dream held. David was a model husband. He combined spirituality and physicality beautifully. He learned seriously, guarded prayer times and halachic boundaries, and still managed a side income that didn’t interfere with his learning. Alongside all of that, he was devoted to me, caring, attentive. He fulfilled the picture I had carried with me since my youth.

“A year later our first son was born, and almost without noticing, I found myself caring for eight more children.

“Little by little, I realized that David was very far from the man I thought I had married. The weight of life exposed sides of him that became unbearable for me.

“He is loud, coarse, and focused on himself. There is no trace of spirituality in him. On the outside he looks like a charedi man. He goes to synagogue and sits in kollel. But I know his heart is not there. What really interests him is money, career advancement, food, and entertainment. Since I can’t give him these things, he stays away from home as much as possible. He adds more hours at work, and when he finally comes home late at night, he sits at the computer alone.

“I don’t interest him. I don’t feel needed. I am just another woman. In my youth, I was admired and sought after. And now what am I? A woman whose husband doesn’t know how to value her.

“Even financially, I can’t rely on him. He behaves childishly and irresponsibly, without foresight. His interactions with clients are unwise. At home it’s no different. I invest enormous effort in order and cleanliness and receive nothing in return. Instead, he throws his clothes on the floor, leaves dirty dishes on the table, and doesn’t bother putting the cheese back in the fridge.

“His connection with the children is minimal. He learns with them or speaks to them just to check a box and then stops. When they don’t align with him, he scolds them angrily. They learn not to express their needs when he is around.

“At Shabbat meals he seems absent. He focuses on himself and the food. He doesn’t show interest in anyone. He rushes through the zemirot, mumbles birkat hamazon, and then stretches out on the couch with the newspaper.

“I see all this and I worry. Every time, I promise myself that I will give the children the warmth and example they don’t receive from their father. I compensate. I listen, I engage, I track their progress, I share words from the weekly parasha. I give all of myself to make up for what they are missing.

“At family events I’m embarrassed by his loudness and would rather not attend together.

“He comes from an unrefined home. His mother didn’t educate him to take responsibility, and his father exploited his wife just as David exploits me.

“I can’t develop professionally. I have no emotional strength or availability to study or grow. I am consumed by the home and the children, even at times when David could have helped. Because he doesn’t, I have no space for myself.”

Hannah stopped speaking and sighed deeply.

David’s Voice

David, who had remained silent until now, straightened in his chair.

“In the past I blamed myself,” he said, “but thank God I’ve grown out of that. Tell me, how can someone live with a woman who can’t accept her husband as he is? She’s bitter and controlling. She tries to shape me according to her expectations. I have no freedom at home. She doesn’t see me as an individual. I’m supposed to represent her father and brothers.

“They meet her impossible standards. They wake early, learn diligently, manage the household perfectly, are neat, polite, emotionally available to the children, and on top of that, earn a dignified living without leaving Torah study.

“I feel invisible. I don’t exist as myself. I’m only an extension of an ideal image.

“I want to be a family man, but Hannah doesn’t let me do it in my way. I want to laugh with the kids, take them out. She wants assessments and structure. So I give up in advance and withdraw.

“I’ve tried to help at home, but everything I do is criticized. The dishes are wet, things aren’t in the exact place, the sheets aren’t tight enough. The constant criticism drained me. I simply have no strength left.”

David finished speaking, equally exhausted and hopeless.

Looking Beneath the Surface

Now I turn to you, the reader. Who is right? David or Hannah? Who needs to change?

The truth is that each partner is acting in a way that protects them. These behaviors are survival strategies shaped by fear and unmet needs. When we begin to understand the emotional logic beneath the patterns, something powerful happens. Instead of seeing themselves as broken or guilty, people realize they have been trying to survive.

This awareness brings relief. The woman who experiences her husband as loud and self absorbed, and the man who feels unseen and controlled, begin to understand that these perceptions are masks covering deep fear.

This is the gift of therapy. The therapy room is a protected space where pain from the past can be spoken, understood, and accepted. When defenses are met with compassion rather than judgment, fear loosens its grip. Trust begins to rebuild.

We must always remember that what we see on the surface is only a small part of the story. It is the tip of an iceberg, a protective shell covering a much deeper emotional journey.

Rabbi Aryeh Ettinger is a consultant and founder of a school for training relationship counselors.