Episode 72: I’m Married To A Good Man Who….
Lately, one of the simplest mindset shifts I've ever learned has been changing everything.
Not just in my marriage.
In my parenting.
In the way I see myself.
It isn't a complicated communication strategy or a groundbreaking relationship technique. It's one sentence.
A sentence that has the power to move me from judgment to compassion, from trying to control people to actually connecting with them.
And the best part?
It works just as well on me as it does on the people I love.
When Judgment Becomes the Lens
This summer has been beautifully full.
Family has been in town. There have been camping trips, pool days, pizza nights, water parks, late-night conversations, and cousins running through the house.
It's been exactly the kind of chaos I hope my kids remember someday.
But somewhere in the middle of all that joy, I noticed something uncomfortable.
I was becoming increasingly critical of one of my children.
I wasn't seeing them anymore.
I was seeing their behavior.
Every interaction felt like another reminder of what they weren't doing, what needed correcting, what I wished would change.
And whenever I find myself there, I know something important has happened.
I've stopped seeing the human underneath the behavior.
The Sentence That Changes Everything
Years ago I heard someone say:
"I have a good kid who..."
That was it.
Simple.
Profound.
Instead of saying,
"My child is difficult."
I began saying,
"I have a good kid who gets dysregulated when he's overwhelmed."
"I have a good kid who yells when he feels scared."
"I have a good kid who becomes stubborn when he's anxious."
Nothing about the behavior was excused.
But everything about the child was remembered.
Healing is often less about learning something new and more about remembering what we've forgotten.
I remembered he wasn't a problem.
He was a good little human having a hard moment.
Then I Tried It in My Marriage
What if I stopped labeling my husband...
...and started describing his struggle instead?
Instead of saying,
"My husband is emotionally unavailable,"
what if I said,
I'm married to a good man who has never been taught how to talk about his feelings.
Instead of,
"He's lazy."
What if it became,
I'm married to a good man who is exhausted and doesn't know how to recover from stress.
Or maybe...
I'm married to a good man who shuts down when conversations feel overwhelming.
I'm married to a good man who gets defensive when he feels criticized.
I'm married to a good man who withdraws because he doesn't know what to say.
I'm married to a good man who believes his value comes from providing.
I'm married to a good man who scrolls his phone because it's easier than sitting with difficult emotions.
I'm married to a good man who works too much because somewhere along the way he learned that productivity equals worth.
I'm married to a good man who forgets appointments.
Who isn't naturally organized.
Who parents differently than I do.
Who isn't especially romantic.
Who processes things more slowly.
Who grew up believing men don't cry.
Who carries wounds he doesn't even know he has.
Who is doing the best he can with the tools he was given.
Can you feel the difference?
The behavior is still there.
The frustration is still real.
But suddenly I'm talking about a human instead of a villain.
Compassion Doesn't Mean Approval
This is where so many women get stuck.
They think compassion means excusing.
It doesn't.
Validation isn't saying the behavior is okay.
Validation is saying,
"I understand why a human being might respond this way."
Those are completely different things.
Boundaries still matter.
Conversations still matter.
Accountability still matters.
But compassion creates the emotional safety that makes real change possible.
Judgment almost never does.
Then Turn the Mirror Around
Here's where this practice becomes even more powerful.
Before finishing the sentence about your husband...
Finish it about yourself.
I am a good woman who...
...overthinks.
...tries to control when she's afraid.
...gets reactive when she's overwhelmed.
...uses work to avoid difficult emotions.
...struggles to receive help.
...has hurt the people she loves with her words.
...is still learning.
...still makes mistakes.
Notice how much easier it is to offer yourself understanding.
Or maybe you realize it's actually easier to offer yourself criticism than compassion.
Either way, you've learned something important.
Because whatever grace you can extend toward yourself eventually becomes the grace you extend toward everyone else.
The Difference Between Gaslighting Yourself and Being Honest
I was talking with a friend recently who started venting about work.
She talked about everything that frustrated her.
Then almost immediately she caught herself.
"But it's really fine."
"I should just be grateful."
"I actually have a great boss."
Listening to her, I realized what had just happened.
She had talked herself out of her own experience.
We do this in marriage all the time.
"He's a wonderful man..."
"I shouldn't complain..."
"Other women have it worse..."
Maybe all of those things are true.
But they don't erase your pain.
Holding two truths at once is where healing begins.
He's a good man.
And this hurts.
He's trying.
And this pattern isn't working.
He loves me.
And I need something different.
Those aren't contradictions.
They're maturity.
Stop Treating Symptoms
One of the biggest mistakes we make is trying to fix symptoms instead of understanding where they come from.
The phone isn't usually the problem.
Neither is the silence.
Or the defensiveness.
Or the dishes.
Those are often coping strategies.
The real question is:
What is this behavior protecting?
What fear is underneath it?
What wound?
What belief?
When we stop treating symptoms and start understanding root causes, everything changes.
Not overnight.
But deeply.
See the Soul Before the Struggle
One belief has become an anchor for me.
I believe we're souls having a human experience.
Which means before my husband is a husband...
Before my child is my child...
Before I am a wife...
We're all human beings carrying stories, fears, hopes, coping mechanisms, and nervous systems trying to keep us safe.
When I remember that, I stop fighting the person.
I start understanding the struggle.
And strangely enough, that's when real change becomes possible.
A Different Way to See the People You Love
The next time your brain starts collecting evidence against your husband...
Pause.
Try the sentence.
I'm married to a good man who...
Fill in the blank.
Not to excuse him.
Not to minimize your pain.
But to remember that underneath every coping strategy is a person worthy of compassion.
Then try it with yourself.
I am a good woman who...
You might discover that the kindness you've been searching for in your marriage begins with the way you choose to see the people inside it—including yourself.
Because when we stop fighting each other and start understanding each other, we create space for something much more powerful than being right.
We create connection.