Sis, I need to ask you something. How much of your day is spent managing his emotions? I see you walking on eggshells, carefully monitoring his mood. I see you dropping everything when he’s upset to make him feel better. I see you organizing your entire life around not triggering his anger, his sadness, his
Sis, I see you trying to explain how you feel. You’re being vulnerable. You’re being honest. You’re telling him exactly what hurt you and why it matters. And I see his response: “You’re overreacting.” “It’s not that big of a deal.” “You’re too sensitive.” “Why are you making such a big thing out of this?”
Sis, I need you to think about your last argument with him. You brought up something specific. Something clear. Something that hurt you or needed to be addressed. And somehow—somehow—by the end of the argument, you were defending yourself against things you never even said. Clarifying what you “actually meant.” Explaining “that’s not what I
Sis, how many times has he said “I’m sorry” this month? And how many times has his behavior actually changed? I see you having the same conversation over and over. He does something that hurts you. You tell him. He apologizes—sometimes even seems really sincere about it. You feel hopeful that things will be different.
Sis, I see you. I see you sitting there, trying to tell him how you feel about something. You’re not yelling. You’re not accusing. You’re not being dramatic. You’re calmly, clearly expressing your emotions—something that should be basic in any relationship. And somehow, by the end of the conversation, you’re the one feeling guilty. You’re
Sis, we need to talk about something that’s been eating at you. I see you standing there with clear evidence that he messed up. Maybe he forgot something important he promised to do. Maybe he said something hurtful. Maybe he broke a commitment. Maybe he hurt you in an obvious, undeniable way. You’re not making
Sis, I see you. I see you carefully choosing your words, making sure your tone is soft and non-accusatory, waiting for the “right moment” to bring up something that’s bothering you. You’re not yelling. You’re not attacking. You’re not even being mean. You’re calmly, respectfully sharing feedback about something he did that hurt you or
Sis, let me ask you something. How many times today have you already reassured him? Told him he’s amazing? Complimented his work, his appearance, his decisions? How many times have you dropped what you were doing to validate him, boost his ego, remind him how great he is? And here’s the real question: Was it
Sis, I need to talk to you about something. I see you trying to share your day with him—something that happened at work, something you’re excited about, something that’s bothering you—and within 30 seconds, he’s somehow turned the entire conversation back to himself. You started telling him about your promotion, and now he’s talking about
Sis, I see you. I see you breaking down in front of him, tears streaming down your face, telling him exactlywhat you need and watching him look at you like you’re speaking a foreign language. I seeyou hurting, asking for the bare minimum of emotional support, and getting nothing. Notcomfort. Not reassurance. Not even basic
