Relationships
Who Are You Fighting For: Your Truth or Your Marriage?
A powerful conversation reveals how childhood struggles can turn a relationship into an endless battle.
- Hannah Dayan
- | Updated
(Photo: shutterstock)“It’s a nightmare. I feel like he’s draining my soul. Until I tell him he’s right, he simply won’t leave me alone,” Tzipi said with frustration.
“The most important thing to me in life is standing by my truth until the end. I see how people today live in lies, and I’m not willing to accept that,” Menachem replied firmly.
“Menachem! Your truth prevents you from seeing me and everyone around you. What matters most to you is being right,” Tzipi raised her voice.
“Tzipi, it’s easy for you,” Menachem responded. “You had an easy childhood. You received everything a child needs and even more.”
Then he turned to me.
“My father left home when I was twelve, and my mother was sick. I had to take care of my younger siblings. All the responsibility fell on me. When they wanted to expel my brother from school, I was the one who stepped in. Even today, when my younger brother gets into debt, I’m the one helping him get out of it.”
“It’s incredibly unfair for a twelve year old to carry burdens that belong to adults,” I told him. “But it’s important to ask yourself who you are fighting today.”
“Our son,” Tzipi said quietly.
“I’m fighting for my truth,” Menachem answered.
“Menachem, who are you married to, to Tzipi or to your truth? Which one matters more?” I asked.
He paused.
“I have to be honest. That’s a difficult question. On one hand Tzipi is very important to me. On the other hand I’m not willing to give up my truth.”
The Battle Behind the Truth
“Let’s take a moment to examine this mechanism you developed,” I said. “Your strong sense of justice and truth. Let’s try to understand whether truth is really the central issue here.”
“It seems that the truth matters more to you than I do,” Tzipi said, her voice filled with hurt.
“What drives Menachem is not really the truth,” I said to her. “What drives him is the battle.”
“Why would I want war? That doesn’t make any sense to me,” Menachem replied.
“Let’s return for a moment to your childhood,” I suggested. “When you experienced so much injustice, you were alone in the struggle. The only way you could survive was by becoming a fighter for justice. That fight protected you from a life that demanded far too much from a child.”
“You are an adult today. The war is no longer necessary. You do not truly have enemies anymore.”
“So why do I keep fighting?” Menachem asked.
“Because it has become familiar,” I replied.
Old Patterns That Still Control Us
“What’s wrong with changing habits?” he asked.
“The difficulty is that every attempt to lower the weapon and shield awakens a sense of danger inside you. You remain alert, always ready for another battle.”
“But what does this protect me from today? What do I actually gain from it?” he wondered.
“When you were a child and life felt so unfair, what did you truly feel?” I asked.
“That things weren’t fair,” he answered.
“Yes, but when you were treated so unfairly, what did it make you feel about yourself?”
He thought for a moment.
“That I wasn’t seen. That I lost my ground and my sense of security. It felt like losing control.”
“All the battles you are still fighting today come from those same patterns,” I explained. “Through them you try to restore your sense of control, your security, and the recognition you lacked.”
When Fighting Stops Helping
“Why does it come out as war?” he asked.
“Because that was the strategy that worked for you as a child,” I replied. “Through this struggle for justice you learned to feel valuable and visible.”
“But now let’s examine reality. When you fight your battles for justice with Tzipi, do you receive more appreciation from her? Do you feel more in control of the situation?”
He shook his head.
“No. The gain I imagine is not real. It’s an illusion. In truth, the loss is much greater.”
“Exactly,” I said. “If the pattern continues, you might lose Tzipi and distance yourself from the people around you. The price could become much higher.”
Building Something New
“Our task now is to allow something new to grow alongside this old mechanism. A different way for you to feel secure, valued, and appreciated without needing to fight.”
“Tzipi and the children can become the most meaningful place for that growth.”
A relationship does not have to become another battlefield. When we understand the roots of our struggles, we can slowly lay down our weapons and begin building connection instead.
Hannah Dayan, Relationship Counselor
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