One of the Top Issues in Marriage

I’ve been thinking about some of the most common dynamics I see in couples. Here’s a big one:

One partner does most of the work in the relationship (and family). And the other partner waits to be told what to do.

And if their partner didn’t tell them what to do? Nothing would happen.

No date nights. No deep conversations. No “how are you really doing?” No card on their birthday, no acknowledgment of a hard week, no reaching across the distance that’s quietly growing between you.

It’s sad how often I hear this. “If I don’t initiate it, nothing happens. I don’t think it even crosses their mind that something is wrong, something needs to be done, or that the relationship needs nurturing.”

That’s not just frustrating. That’s lonely. And being “alone together” is one of the most painful feelings.

What a low-effort partner actually looks like:

They never plan dates, trips, or quality time — and don’t notice that they don’t

They forget important dates or milestones that matter deeply to their partner

They rarely ask how their partner is feeling or check in emotionally

They wait to be told what needs doing — at home, in the relationship, in life

They respond when approached but almost never initiate attention, conversation, or connection (they only initiate sex)

They seem content with co-existing and being functional/transactional

They don’t seem to notice the distance growing between them and their partner

What a high-effort partner feels in the relationship:

Invisible. Like all their effort is just… expected

Exhausted from carrying the mental load and emotional weight of the relationship alone

Resentful

Like a parent more than a partner

Deeply lonely, even when they’re sitting right next to the person they love

Desperate for their partner to just notice — without having to ask

If this resonates, I want you to hear something important:

The dynamic you’re in? It didn’t appear out of nowhere. It was built — slowly, quietly — by both of you. Which means it can be rebuilt.

Here’s where I want to challenge both partners, because real change requires real honesty on both sides.

If you’re the one carrying it all:

The hardest thing I can ask you to do is this — stop doing so much.

Not to punish your partner. Not to prove a point. But because the truth is, when you manage everything, you leave no room for them to show up. You’ve become so good at filling the gap that they’ve never had to.

But here’s the part that’s even harder than pulling back: ask for what you need instead of complaining about what you’re not getting.

There’s a world of difference between “you never plan anything” and “I would love it if you planned our next date night — something, anything, I just want to feel like you thought of me.” One closes a door. The other opens one.

And when they do try — when the effort comes, even if it’s imperfect, even if it’s not exactly what you would have done or how you would have done it — celebrate it. Receive it. Let it land. Because if every attempt gets corrected or critiqued, they’ll stop making them. And you’ll both lose.

If you’re the one who’s been coasting:

I want to say this with as much compassion as I can:

For most people, this pattern didn’t start with your relationship. It started much earlier.

Maybe you grew up in a home where everything was done for you — where a parent swooped in before you ever had to figure things out yourself. So now, unconsciously, you’re waiting for your partner to do the same. It feels normal to you. It feels like love, even. But to them, it feels like abandonment.

Or maybe you’ve learned — again, somewhere along the way — that you can get away with not trying. That the relationship will hold regardless. That your partner will stay.

And maybe they will. For now.

But here’s what I need you to know: low effort builds resentment. Quietly, steadily, brick by brick. And resentment left untended turns into contempt. And contempt is the beginning of the end.

There’s also something else. When one partner over-functions and the other under-functions long enough, it creates a parent-child dynamic. And nobody — nobody — is attracted to their child.

One person feels responsible, overwhelmed, controlling. The other feels managed, criticized, small.

The good news? This is a pattern. And patterns, when you understand where they came from, can change. You are not broken. You are just running an old program that was never meant for this relationship.