Today, I want to talk about an issue that many don't like to discuss openly: loneliness in marriage.
My husband and I dated for many, many years before we married. During those years, we fought like hell to make our relationship work. And, as a result, we thought we were ready for anything. In our naiveté, we thought that the only hardships of marriage that we would have to endure would be the addition of extra family members (because everyone knows that when you marry a Hmong man, you marry his entire family as well). Never have we been so wrong in our entire lives. Our first year of marriage was the hardest year for us-- and we've been together for more than ten years.
Now, I am the first to admit that I am the more sensitive one in the relationship. I can read my husband's emotions immediately, just by looking at his body language, his slight facial expressions. So I was the first one to notice that something was off in our relationship. Initially, I believed myself to be paranoid. We had only been married for four months, surely I was just thinking too much? I rationalized my paranoia. Perhaps I was just restless because the stress of the wedding was over with. However, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. And I was right. Slowly, my husband stopped kissing me on the forehead in the mornings. He stopped sharing his work day with me. I chalked it up to "work stress" and ignored my gut. It only got worse. He stopped hugging me when he came home from work. We began to eat separately at different times. He started sleeping on the other side of the bed and complained that he was "too hot" to snuggle. We barely talked or texted anymore. He watched football. I watched other happy couples on social media.
This was the first time in our relationship that I began to feel lonely. It is hard to accurately describe such a disparaging feeling, but, to sum it up, I felt lonely even when he was sitting right next to me. How could I, a person who just pledged to love this man through sickness and health, be contemplating the big "d-word" less than a year after our wedding? And how did it get to this point? This period of depression was further exacerbated by the fact that I had no one to confide to. If I confided to my family, they would hold it against my husband forever. If I spoke to my in-laws about it, then the situation would blow up into something worse. If I confided to my friends, then that meant that it I was acknowledging that something was wrong. I didn't know what to do.
I tried to discuss it with my husband several times, but he shrugged it off each time, saying that I was just thinking too much and that work was stressing him out. So I kept it to myself and remained angry. Angry about our dissolving marriage, angry about my job, angry at the demands made by both families. Angry that perhaps my husband was right—perhaps I was just over thinking it? But in my heart, I knew I was right. Our marriage was rapidly deteriorating. My husband had closed himself off from me and I didn’t know why. And it hurt. So I spiraled even further into depression.
Thankfully, I am a very tenacious individual. After I wallowed in self-pity and spent a few months resenting my husband, I came to a realization. I did not need my husband to reciprocate my emotions. We made vows when we married and, as a result, we would work things out. Even if my husband did not want to acknowledge what was wrong, I would not give up on us. I had to reframe the negative thoughts and turn them into positive thoughts. The question was not whether we could work things out as a couple. Instead, the question was when. So I resolved to myself that I would find a way to fix "us".
The hard part was coming up with a plan. I had never faced this situation before. All of our past arguments were resolved with talking together, but this time, my husband was shutting me out. So, I did what most women do in troubled times… I treated myself. I started with a little retail therapy. I bought new clothes. I indulged in expensive foundation. I went to the movies by myself. Over time, I made more substantial changes in my daily routine. I stopped planning around my husband’s schedule. I cooked and ate whatever I felt like eating that day. I picked up reading again. I picked up an instrument. I volunteered for events. I reconnected with old friends and made time for new friends. All the while, I made sure to remain accessible and affectionate towards my husband. As silly and trivial this may sound, it actually saved our marriage. (You heard that right—shopping saves marriages! Ha.)
At this point, you may be wondering what it was my husband was hiding from me. I am not going to go into much detail for my husband’s privacy, but, ultimately, it was MARRIAGE itself that created the distance between us. Society tells us that when two people marry, they become one. In the Hmong culture, your souls merge and you are bound for eternity. The lines blur between I and us. Prior to marriage, we were individuals who loved each other. After marriage, we were no longer individuals with separate and distinct identities. Instead, we became a pair. We were unable to go anywhere without the other being mentioned. We essentially lost ourselves to our marriage. Before you start rolling your eyes, hear me out. This is not an uncommon phenomenon. Just ask all the empty-nesters out there who are now faced with re-discovering their identities once their offspring have flown from the coop. It is so frighteningly easy to lose yourself in a marriage. You are no longer permitted to put yourself first. Everything you do, you must do for the sake of your relationship. And that is fine. That is what I promised to do when I vowed to marry him. However, in the struggle to fight for us, we forgot to fight for ourselves.
I believe we both knew what we was happening, subconsciously. I also believe that we both tried dealing with it in our own way. My husband withdrew into himself .I sensed it, but I did not know how to save us, so I threw myself at him and clung onto the idea of “us” (a la Miley Cyrus’s Wrecking Ball), which only served to exacerbate the situation and my own loneliness.
And this is where we finally arrive at the ultimate lesson of the day. Loneliness forced me to face a long lost friend: self-love. By putting myself first and loving myself, I gave my husband the space and time that he needed to figure out how to fight his own battles. And, little by little, he came back to me. We became a force of nature together. We toppled monarchies and bore through mountains faster than John Henry (just kidding, but you get the point). We were whole again and stronger than before. And that, my friends, is why loneliness in marriage can be okay.
Disclaimer: Loneliness in marriage is never okay if you are the victim of abuse. Please seek help right away if that is the case. You can call the National Domestic Violence Hotline 24/7 at 1-800-799-7233.
My husband and I dated for many, many years before we married. During those years, we fought like hell to make our relationship work. And, as a result, we thought we were ready for anything. In our naiveté, we thought that the only hardships of marriage that we would have to endure would be the addition of extra family members (because everyone knows that when you marry a Hmong man, you marry his entire family as well). Never have we been so wrong in our entire lives. Our first year of marriage was the hardest year for us-- and we've been together for more than ten years.
Now, I am the first to admit that I am the more sensitive one in the relationship. I can read my husband's emotions immediately, just by looking at his body language, his slight facial expressions. So I was the first one to notice that something was off in our relationship. Initially, I believed myself to be paranoid. We had only been married for four months, surely I was just thinking too much? I rationalized my paranoia. Perhaps I was just restless because the stress of the wedding was over with. However, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. And I was right. Slowly, my husband stopped kissing me on the forehead in the mornings. He stopped sharing his work day with me. I chalked it up to "work stress" and ignored my gut. It only got worse. He stopped hugging me when he came home from work. We began to eat separately at different times. He started sleeping on the other side of the bed and complained that he was "too hot" to snuggle. We barely talked or texted anymore. He watched football. I watched other happy couples on social media.
This was the first time in our relationship that I began to feel lonely. It is hard to accurately describe such a disparaging feeling, but, to sum it up, I felt lonely even when he was sitting right next to me. How could I, a person who just pledged to love this man through sickness and health, be contemplating the big "d-word" less than a year after our wedding? And how did it get to this point? This period of depression was further exacerbated by the fact that I had no one to confide to. If I confided to my family, they would hold it against my husband forever. If I spoke to my in-laws about it, then the situation would blow up into something worse. If I confided to my friends, then that meant that it I was acknowledging that something was wrong. I didn't know what to do.
I tried to discuss it with my husband several times, but he shrugged it off each time, saying that I was just thinking too much and that work was stressing him out. So I kept it to myself and remained angry. Angry about our dissolving marriage, angry about my job, angry at the demands made by both families. Angry that perhaps my husband was right—perhaps I was just over thinking it? But in my heart, I knew I was right. Our marriage was rapidly deteriorating. My husband had closed himself off from me and I didn’t know why. And it hurt. So I spiraled even further into depression.
Thankfully, I am a very tenacious individual. After I wallowed in self-pity and spent a few months resenting my husband, I came to a realization. I did not need my husband to reciprocate my emotions. We made vows when we married and, as a result, we would work things out. Even if my husband did not want to acknowledge what was wrong, I would not give up on us. I had to reframe the negative thoughts and turn them into positive thoughts. The question was not whether we could work things out as a couple. Instead, the question was when. So I resolved to myself that I would find a way to fix "us".
The hard part was coming up with a plan. I had never faced this situation before. All of our past arguments were resolved with talking together, but this time, my husband was shutting me out. So, I did what most women do in troubled times… I treated myself. I started with a little retail therapy. I bought new clothes. I indulged in expensive foundation. I went to the movies by myself. Over time, I made more substantial changes in my daily routine. I stopped planning around my husband’s schedule. I cooked and ate whatever I felt like eating that day. I picked up reading again. I picked up an instrument. I volunteered for events. I reconnected with old friends and made time for new friends. All the while, I made sure to remain accessible and affectionate towards my husband. As silly and trivial this may sound, it actually saved our marriage. (You heard that right—shopping saves marriages! Ha.)
At this point, you may be wondering what it was my husband was hiding from me. I am not going to go into much detail for my husband’s privacy, but, ultimately, it was MARRIAGE itself that created the distance between us. Society tells us that when two people marry, they become one. In the Hmong culture, your souls merge and you are bound for eternity. The lines blur between I and us. Prior to marriage, we were individuals who loved each other. After marriage, we were no longer individuals with separate and distinct identities. Instead, we became a pair. We were unable to go anywhere without the other being mentioned. We essentially lost ourselves to our marriage. Before you start rolling your eyes, hear me out. This is not an uncommon phenomenon. Just ask all the empty-nesters out there who are now faced with re-discovering their identities once their offspring have flown from the coop. It is so frighteningly easy to lose yourself in a marriage. You are no longer permitted to put yourself first. Everything you do, you must do for the sake of your relationship. And that is fine. That is what I promised to do when I vowed to marry him. However, in the struggle to fight for us, we forgot to fight for ourselves.
I believe we both knew what we was happening, subconsciously. I also believe that we both tried dealing with it in our own way. My husband withdrew into himself .I sensed it, but I did not know how to save us, so I threw myself at him and clung onto the idea of “us” (a la Miley Cyrus’s Wrecking Ball), which only served to exacerbate the situation and my own loneliness.
And this is where we finally arrive at the ultimate lesson of the day. Loneliness forced me to face a long lost friend: self-love. By putting myself first and loving myself, I gave my husband the space and time that he needed to figure out how to fight his own battles. And, little by little, he came back to me. We became a force of nature together. We toppled monarchies and bore through mountains faster than John Henry (just kidding, but you get the point). We were whole again and stronger than before. And that, my friends, is why loneliness in marriage can be okay.
Disclaimer: Loneliness in marriage is never okay if you are the victim of abuse. Please seek help right away if that is the case. You can call the National Domestic Violence Hotline 24/7 at 1-800-799-7233.