Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus

Please excuse the tired metaphor, but I really think that John Gray was onto something. This isn't about his book, and I by no means align my marital perspectives with all of his (both as a married person and as a marriage counselor). However, I do agree that men and women are two completely different creatures.

There have been many books written regarding the psychological differences between males and females. Although I think most people recognize that men and women are very different, in some ways we sometimes think that the other gender is just a different version of us. But women are not just prettier, more emotional men, and men are not egotistical stoic women.

You can read R' Aharon Feldman's The River, The Kettle and The Bird  to learn about "understanding the different natures of male and female, controlling anger and criticism, fostering love, giving and gratitude." John Gray's Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus books share "a practical and proven way for men and women to improve their communication by acknowledging the differences between their needs, desires, and behaviors"

Alison Armstrong, author of In Sync With the Opposite Sex, Making Sense of Men, Understanding Women and other such books/workshops writes about how each gender has different realities. Because this is true, and many people don't understand this, we treat the opposite gender based on specific expectations and thus in a way that causes them to treat us poorly. Clearly, this gets in the way of having a mutually satisfying relationship.

For example, Armstrong relates that most men are driven by duty, honor, and obligation. Many women don't understand what this means and assume that men make decisions based on the same things that women do, to avoid someone being mad at them for example, or some other emotional reason. She explains that men (generally) want to take care of, make happy, spend time with, contribute to, and protect their women. A man responds to how he's treated, so if a woman stops being receptive or criticizes him, he loses motivation to be her knight. Armstrong proposes that a woman can "turn her prince into a frog" if she treats him in the way she naturally treats the females in her life.

Gray talks about how men and women tally giving and receiving love differently (women want consistent small things not just one big act of caring), how they deal with stress differently (women want to talk about things but when men are stressed they retreat and isolate), among other ideas.

There are so many books out there at this point that will share the secrets to a happy coexistence. I think it boils down to a simple understanding -- men and women are by definition different beings.

So let's break it down. While it is true that not all men are the same or want the same things, and not all women are the same and want the same things, there are some very basic differences that show up across cultures and upbringings. I've seen it where the guy sometimes will have the more stereotypical female traits and vice versa, but generally partners end up with someone who sees and experiences the world very differently than themselves. 

People generally marry someone who is their foil in so many ways. Whether its this psychoanalytically understood "attachment reenactment" where someone (often subconsciously) marries their partner to recreate and resolve old childhood wounds, or just simply that opposites attract, it would be boring to marry someone exactly like you. Because this is true, you have to realize that you'll likely end up with someone who doesn't speak the same "language" as you. 

The more we understand the opposite sex, the better we can get along with and support them.

Male and female realities are often very different:

• They give and receive love differently.
• Most stereotypical men lean towards showing love via physical touch, acts of service, and problem solving
• Women show love through words of affirmation, quality time and emotional nurturing.
• They process emotions differently.
• Men are generally socialized to suppress emotions and/or manage them privately
• Women express and process emotions more openly and seek connection and verbal processing to feel better
• They communicate differently. 
• Men tend to be more solution-focused
• Women are process-focused, and they can walk through emotions without needing a solution, just empathy and presence
• The conflict/connection dance is different between genders. 
• Men generally shut down and withdraw in the face of conflict
• Women often push for further connection and conversation
• Their validation needs differ. 
• Men feel loved when they're respected, appreciated, and admired for what they do
• Women tend to feel loved when they are seen, heard, and understood for what they are

Of course, these are all stereotypes, and you may find men and women that take on the more stereotypical male or female opposite tendencies. These patterns are influenced too by culture, upbringing, and personality, not just sex/gender. 

The important piece to remember though, is that no matter what side of the fence you find yourself on, you're not looking across the table at someone of the opposite gender that in general thinks like you. He or she is seeing the world through a different kaleidoscope if you will, a different set of rules, different needs, a different coding language. Act accordingly -- ask questions, don't make assumptions, be curious, learn what s/he needs or wants. 

It’s Not Your Fault if Someone Hurts You

With regards to relationships, we talk a lot about trust. Earning it. Breaking it. Rebuilding it. But there’s something we don’t say enough:

If you trust someone who ends up hurting you, that’s not your fault.

Let me say that again, in case you need to hear it louder:

IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT.

You are allowed to trust people. You are allowed to believe someone when they tell you they care about you. You are allowed to lean into closeness, to choose connection, to give someone access to your heart without being blamed later for their betrayal.

I have a client who started dating someone and really wanted to build something meaningful with her. But early in their relationship, he found out she had been talking to other guys in ways that felt flirtatious and crossed boundaries. When he brought it up, she told him she just believed guys and girls could be close friends, and she hadn’t really thought it was a big deal.

It was a big deal to him. It hurt. It wasn't aligned with his relationship values.

But they kept talking. She listened. And as their relationship grew more serious, she began to make changes—on her own. She stopped communicating with those guys, unfollowed and/or blocked them, and began checking in with him when one of them reached out. She even offered to give him her phone password—not because he asked, but because she wanted him to feel safe again.

She’s done a lot to earn his trust back. But even now, months later, he still struggles.

Because she hurt him once, and now he lives in fear of it happening again. That fear—though understandable—is getting in the way of their connection. It’s keeping one foot in the door, just in case. It’s making it hard for him to believe that she won’t do it again, even though she’s shown every sign of growth and commitment.

This is the trap of broken trust: we start believing that if we hurt, it must be because we weren’t careful enough. That maybe we should have guarded our heart more. That next time, we won’t be so easily fooled.

But that kind of thinking doesn’t protect us. It just punishes us for being human.

Because here’s the truth: If someone hasn’t given you a reason not to trust them, you don’t owe them suspicion.

And even if they once did break your trust—but have since done the work to rebuild it—you get to decide whether you want to stay, and if you stay, how to let yourself live fully in that choice. Even more so if others in your life caused you to build this narrative and belief that you can't trust people, don't apply that as a general rule.

You don’t have to keep bracing for betrayal just to prove you’re strong. You’re not weak for trusting. You’re not naive for believing someone can change. You’re not foolish for choosing to love.

If someone breaks your heart, the pain is real, but the blame is not yours to carry.

So let me give you permission—

To trust. To hope. To love. Even when there’s risk involved.

To stay soft even after being hurt. And to stop punishing yourself for what someone else chose to do.

You deserve connection.

You deserve peace.

You deserve to stop questioning whether it was your fault.

It wasn’t.

Stop Trying to Fix What Isn't Yours

Ok, back to some relationship blogging, a break from the life stuff for a moment.

This is a very important relationship skill, an important life skill really.

Don't take responsibility for other people's feelings. 

Read that again.

You are not responsible for other people’s feelings.

You can care. You can show up with empathy, kindness, and support. You can apologize if you caused harm. In fact, please apologize if you caused harm! You can apologize even if you didn't mean to cause harm, especially if you didn't mean to hurt someone. But their experience is their own. Don't try to explain it away or fix it. Just make space for it. Don't make it personal and don't internalize it.

You cannot take someone else’s pain away. You cannot process their emotions for them. You cannot fix what’s not yours to fix.

Sometimes we feel this intense pull—especially in close relationships—to make someone feel better. To soften their anger. To take away their sadness. To fix the discomfort between you. Or even just to explain yourself when you seem to be the reason why they're sad, mad, or hurt.

But feelings don’t work that way.

They’re deeply personal, often tangled up in stories that go way beyond the current moment.

And no matter how badly you wish you could, you can’t climb inside someone else’s emotional landscape and make it okay for them.

They just need space.

What you can do is own your part if you’ve done something hurtful. But the rest of it is theirs to work through. And it's really freeing to get to this place where you don't try to fix things. You don't need to feel bad or this sense of urgency or guilt. Making space is the best thing you can do.

Because their feelings are theirs. Their healing is theirs.

When you don't try to fix someone else's feelings, you don't take responsibility for them. You let them have their own emotional experience; you let them feel whatever it is they need to feel. And you can be there on the other side of it. But you cannot, and should not, try to climb into it for them. It doesn't work, and will make you both frustrated.  

Here's another side benefit of not taking responsibility of others' feelings. When someone you are close to (a partner or another family member or close friend) has strong negative feelings about something, their feelings often permeate your own. Sometimes their feelings even seem to be your fault. When you realize it's just how they're feeling, what they're experiencing internally, then there is no need to fix them or "put them out" no matter how painful they may seem. The person himself/herself needs to deal with the feelings and the best way they can do that is alone.

The Late-Night Musings of a Tired Mother

It’s now 3:15 am. The baby is awake, again. For the nth time tonight. She wants to go back to sleep, but sleeping just isn't her thing, and apparently mine, in this era of our lives. The night is quiet, and the only sound is the hum of the white noise machine and the groan of my own frustrations as I try to get my daughter back to sleep and she wakes up again as I try to shift her out of my arms. 

My nighttime routine used to be simple. Sure, my son needed to be fed, bathed, changed, swaddled (as an infant), rocked, and eventually he'd sleep. Did he wake up during the night? Of course, but eventually he started sleeping through the night. But with my daughter? It’s like a marathon with no finish line. The endless rhythm of rocking, shushing, singing, and softly whispering “It’s okay, go back to sleep” is like chasing the horizon. Not only is it frustrating, but all I want is to collapse into bed myself. Sleep through one continuous night.

As I cradle her, the exhaustion wraps itself around me like a blanket. And finally, as my baby’s breathing steadies and she drifts off, I find myself in the most unexpected of places: lost in thought. All I want is to sink into my pillow and let the cobwebs of sleep take over, but the quietness of the night bears rumination.

How did I get here? Did I not want to be here for the longest time? It's this strangest feeling of being stuck in-between being needed 24/7 and often completely invisible at the same time. I also think about how much marriage and motherhood has changed me. There was a time where being up at the wee hours of the morning meant having a good time and probably sleeping in the next day. But now, it’s just part of the routine—multiple late night/early morning awakenings every single day of the week. Tired eyes, sometimes heavy heart, and yet, somehow, my heart is so full, holding that tiny, warm hand in mine.

And I wonder: When will I get sleep again? The answer comes in the form of a small cry as I place my baby back in her bed, trying valiantly not to wake her, for the nth time.

And so for now, I savor this: the quiet breathing, the warm, soft weight of my baby’s body in my arms, the small moments of connection that are all too easy to forget during the day.

It's not just about motherhood, but about marriage too—about the quiet, unseen work of partnership. These nights (and days!) are exhausting, yes, but they’re also full of tiny, sacred moments of connection. Not just with our children, but with each other. Sometimes it's in how my husband takes the baby and is "on call" throughout the night, and sometimes it's in carrying the weight in a different way. We don’t always get long, uninterrupted conversations or grand gestures these days, but in this hush of the night, I’m reminded that we’re still showing up for this life we’ve built together. Quietly. Tirelessly. Side by side.

But tomorrow, when the sun rises and the kids are jumping on my head because the sun has risen, I’ll probably feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Until then, though, here I am—holding my baby close in the dead of night, wondering how much longer I’ll be able to do this, while also knowing these moments are fleeting, and I’ll miss them when they’re gone.

For now, though…please, let me sleep.

Newlywed to Now: Picking Up Where We Left Off

It feels almost quaint to be returning to blogging. I'm not sure how long I'll be here, but I'm here for now. No one really blogs anymore—at least not like we used to. We’ve traded long-form reflection for quick bits—stories that disappear in 24 hours and bite-sized reels. But I missed this space to process. To wander through a thought instead of distilling it into a punchline. This blog was born in the early days of marriage, sort of the child of my shidduch blog, and though the world, and I, have changed a lot since then, the desire to make meaning out of the mess is still here.

I stopped blogging, and to be honest, writing altogether more or less, because life got full. It was hectic, messy, complicated, beautiful, and sometimes hard. It's still busy, tangled, and jam-packed with noise, carpools, and laundry, but I'm trying to cut through the noise and lack of sleep to process it all. I'm more experienced, wiser, seasoned and more weathered if you will. My idealism has shifted somewhat, but I still hold onto the same values. Much of what I wanted for my life has been challenged, but I'm not one to shy away from the battlefield.  

My goal is to provide you with some honest reflections, stories from the trenches, the joys and gut-punches of the day to day now that it's been almost 7 years into this marriage. The lanes have merged, but the road keeps changing.

Yield

Autopilot off. 

It's new and it's familiar all at once. I know how to drive, but now I'm driving a car with two steering wheels. It's a new task, one to which I can apply skills I already have...if I'm willing to tweak them, and to be patient with the learning curve.

Getting married older has so many advantages (perhaps more on that another time), but it also has its challenges. Like everything in life. There's a way of living that developed by having only me to take care of, and be responsible for, for all those years. There was a comfort in that. Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy to share my life with someone. I'm ecstatic to have someone to give to. It's just different.

We're born essentially selfish. As a baby, we're conditioned to take, to receive. Our life depends on it. As we become adults we learn how to give and how to help others. We figure out our place in the world. As an older single, we learn how to take care of ourselves. How essential that is. We develop patterns in our lives based around our needs. It is survival.

The longer you do something, the more ingrained it becomes. And so I have to readjust my mirrors and change my seat position. The focus is different. The driving is different.

As I yield, leaning into the turn as the lanes merge, I'm met with a euphoria. Finally, I get to share my ride. It's no longer a lonely bumpy road. It's not a gallop into the sunset either, mind you. It's a lesson in patience, in hard work, emotional work sometimes, but it's worth it.

Ride with me, and we can explore the road together.