Are We Just Roommates, or What?

We were sharing a bed, a house, a family… But somehow, it felt like we were just roommates who split chores and childcare duties.

No hand on the lower back while I cooked dinner. No lingering kisses. No deep conversations unless someone was melting down. (Hint: usually me.)

The nights were where it took over for me. It was crawling into bed utterly exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally just wanting to be wrapped in the arms that I found my comfort and not getting that. It was laying there silently crying, wishing he could just “read the room” and take over where I knew I couldn’t anymore because I had poured every ounce of myself out by this point. 

Nobody writes vows about this part. No one says “I do” and imagines sharing Google calendars and passive-aggressive laundry piles. But here we were: Two people surviving the same storm, but not always holding the same umbrella.

There wasn’t a blow-up. There wasn’t betrayal. There was just… slow erosion.

And I was waiting for him to change, while God was gently nudging me to go first.

Like hello gut punch right?! Why would I go first when I could barely get myself to shower before bed after not having a shower for a few days?

But I remember it clear as day, we crawled into bed after a long day on both our parts and after laying there for a second I finally used my voice and asked for what I needed (which honestly I STRUGGLE with!) The funny part is it was two words “cuddle me” and it was like before they were out of my mouth he grabbed me and pulled me in as though he needed it as badly as I did. It was that moment where we started to understand one another. He didn’t want to overwhelm me with more touching because he knew I was at my breaking point by the time we got to bed and I didn’t want to burden him with the stress of what I needed after he had a day of the stress of his job and providing for us. 

We didn’t do a 3-day marriage intensive or read a spicy devotional together. We started with small things:

• Sitting next to each other on the couch instead of opposite ends

• Texting, “What do you need from me today?” instead of, “Can you pick up milk?”

• Hugging for a full 30 seconds even when it felt awkward

• Praying out loud together (yes, even through gritted teeth at first)

• Making it a point to cuddle 5 minutes either when we got in bed or right when we woke up.

  
  

We stopped waiting to feel close. We started choosing closeness, one weird, clumsy, holy attempt at a time.

We weren’t broken. We were buried under stress, dishes, and unspoken resentment. But God is in the business of resurrection. And marriage, when surrendered, is a sacred slow burn.

If your marriage feels more like a business partnership than a love story, you’re not alone. But you’re also not stuck. Start with one touch. One question. One prayer. You didn’t get here overnight. But love can still live here, right here in the laundry, leftovers, and late-night tension.

Let this be the chapter where you rebuild, not resign.