The Tug of War at Home: Why Letting Go Brings Real Strength

As part of a training program for couples coaches, the participants go through a group process. I want to share a fascinating situation that took place there. All identifying details have been changed.

During one session, Shmuel, a student in the program, began to share. Suddenly, Neriya interrupted him and spoke sharply: “I don’t understand why Shmuel is getting the floor today. I’ve been here for a long time, and I’m never given space.”

I chose to remain silent and observe. I wanted to see how the dynamic would unfold on its own.

Shmuel immediately fell quiet. Neriya continued speaking, pouring out his frustration.

“I can no longer cope with my son, Yedidya,” he said. “Everything I ask for, he does the opposite. I tell him to come home by 10 PM, he walks in at midnight. I ask him to wear a regular kippah, he buys the smallest one he can find. I want him to wear a white shirt, he switches to blue. It feels like whatever I request, he deliberately does the opposite. I’m exhausted from the arguments. What do you suggest I do? Throw him out? Lock him out? I feel like I’ve failed as a parent.”

He finished with a heavy sigh, eyes lowered in despair.

A Surprising Question

At that moment, I did something that truly surprised Neriya. Instead of responding to his parenting concerns, I turned back to Shmuel and asked, “What happened that you chose to remain silent instead of continuing to speak?”

Shmuel smiled awkwardly. “Honestly, I just knew it would not work. It was clear to me I would not succeed against Neriya.”

“So you stayed silent from the beginning?” I clarified.

“Yes,” he replied.

Then I turned back to Neriya. “How do you feel about what Shmuel just said?”

Neriya paused. “To be honest, I know it is not pleasant to hear. But there is truth in it. It happens often that people around me feel uncomfortable. Maybe even threatened.”

“And what about Yedidya, your son?” I gently asked.

Neriya froze. He had not expected that connection. After a few quiet moments, he looked up and said, “Thank you. That is a very accurate insight. If I had not experienced this just now, I would never have understood that there is another side to the story.”

The Tug of War in Relationships

Let us picture two people pulling on opposite ends of a rope. Eventually, the rope will snap.

Most people assume that in order to prevent the rope from breaking, both sides must let go. But that is not true. It is enough for just one person to release their grip. The tension immediately decreases.

This is exactly how conflict works in marriage and in parenting. Every argument has two sides. One pulls from one end, the other pulls back. The struggle continues.

But there is an important distinction. Sometimes a person appears to concede, yet they are still holding on internally. They let go conditionally, hoping to gain something in return. When that expectation is not met, their frustration grows even stronger because they feel they lost.

True release is different. When a person genuinely lets go, they are no longer trying to control the outcome. They manage only their own response. The other person’s reaction does not determine their inner peace.

The Splitting of the Red Sea and Marriage

Our Sages teach that finding one’s life partner is as difficult as the splitting of the Red Sea. What is the connection?

When the Jewish people stood at the sea, they were trapped. The water was before them and the Egyptians behind them. Then Nachshon ben Aminadav stepped forward and entered the sea. He moved into a place of complete trust, like a child relying on a parent. From that place of surrender, salvation came.

In relationships, we often feel trapped in our own version of that moment. Each side pulls harder. Each side fears losing control. Yet sometimes growth begins when one person is willing to step forward with trust rather than force.

When we stop pulling, we create space. In that space, trust can be rebuilt. We can examine our fears, lower our defenses, and choose connection over control.

Healthy marriage and conscious parenting begin not when both sides win, but when one person chooses to stop pulling the rope.