We’ve been married nearly ten years and have four kids. Over the years, there have been moments where my husband’s lack of action has made him seem weak or unwilling to protect me.
The first was when I was eight months pregnant and a woman aggressively shoved my belly and hurled insults. I was hurt and scared. My husband stood there and said nothing—even when she turned on him. I felt abandoned, though I tried to chalk it up to pregnancy hormones and move on.
More recently, a large aggressive dog came at us while we were walking. I instinctively grabbed for his arm, but he elbowed me away. The dog eventually left, but I broke down crying. He apologized for not reacting “perfectly,” even though he knows I have a deep fear of big dogs from a past attack.
Then this morning, a small kitchen fire started. I shouted “fire!” and moved the kids out, while he just stood there yelling. I grabbed the fire blanket, put it out, carried the flaming toaster outside, and poured water on it. He stood by and later told the kids, “thank God for your mom’s survival instincts.” I didn’t say anything, but I was upset—I had to handle the fire and the kids while he froze.
There have been other moments like this too. He’s fit, goes to the gym, and is physically bigger than me—but in crisis situations, he doesn’t act. It’s becoming a turn off. I’m not leaving him over it, but I’m struggling with the growing lack of attraction.
Would other women feel the same?
First off, thank you for your honesty. I can feel the frustration, the disappointment, and the loneliness in your words. And let me just say—you’re not crazy for feeling this way. You’ve lived through moments where you didn’t feel safe, and the one person who was supposed to have your back just… stood there.
Let’s talk about what’s really happening here—not just on the surface, but underneath.
You’re not just talking about weakness. You’re talking about safety. You’re talking about trust. You’re talking about the quiet, sometimes invisible contract we enter when we say, “I do.” That we’ll protect each other. Show up when it counts. And in these moments—whether it was the shove, the dog, or the fire—it felt like your husband broke that contract.
Now, here’s the hard truth: I don’t think your husband is evil, or lazy, or a coward. But I do think he may be deeply disconnected from his own sense of courage and agency. Maybe no one ever taught him how to respond under pressure. Maybe he freezes because he doesn’t believe he’s capable. Maybe he’s living in survival mode himself and doesn’t even know it. But that doesn’t make your hurt any less valid.
Here’s what I want you to do: don’t bottle this up. Don’t shove it down and “be the strong one” again. That’s a fast track to resentment and burnout. Sit down with him—not when you’re already angry or right after one of these incidents—but when you’re both calm. And tell him the truth: that you’re starting to feel unsafe in his presence. That you need to understand what’s happening for him in those moments. That you’re willing to walk with him through it, but you can’t keep walking alone.
And then—and this is key—you’ve got to listen to his story too. Maybe his wiring is different. Maybe trauma taught him to freeze. But you both need to get on the same page about what partnership and protection look like in your marriage.
This isn’t about who’s braver. It’s about building a team where both people feel secure, seen, and supported.
You’re not overreacting. And you’re not alone.
But now’s the time for a real, grown-up conversation. The kind that puts the marriage on a new foundation—one built on clarity, trust, and shared responsibility.
You’ve got this. And he can step up. But you’ll both have to do the work.