My husband and I have been loving each other wrong. For ten long years, we thought we were showing love—but we were missing each other entirely.
A few weeks ago, we went out for dinner. I was excited for a quiet evening together, but he kept glancing at his phone and getting distracted by people around us. I felt a twinge of disappointment. How could he not know how much date nights mean to me? How could he not understand that sometimes I just crave his undivided attention?
He didn’t see why I was upset. I tried to explain, hoping he’d understand, but he didn’t quite get it. I left it alone, thinking maybe I’d try again another time.
A few days later, I was having one of those lazy days. I didn’t do the dishes, and the sink started piling up. No big deal, I thought. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.
When my husband came home, he noticed the growing stack of dishes and looked a little frustrated. I shrugged and said, “It’s fine. I’ll handle it tomorrow.”
That’s when it hit me. Just like I’d tried to explain why I felt unloved at dinner, he tried to explain why the dishes made him feel unappreciated—and, in a way, unloved.
I looked at him, confused. “How can dirty dishes make you feel unloved?”
He looked back, equally perplexed. “Well… how can me looking at my phone for a second at dinner make you feel unloved?”
And that’s when I started thinking. Maybe we have been loving each other the wrong way. We thought we were expressing love clearly—but to the other person, it was invisible.
We realized that loving someone the way you want to be loved doesn’t always work. Everyone experiences love differently.
So, we sat down on the couch—and for the first time in ten years, we really talked. About how we want to be loved, what it looks like, and why it matters. About what makes us feel valued and cherished.
I discovered that my husband feels loved when I do things that help him—putting away the dishes, lending a hand when he needs it. He realized I feel loved through quality time—moments when his attention is fully on me, like a quiet dinner together.
I looked at him and said, “Have we really been loving each other wrong all this time?”
And then it clicked. We had been. But now, we finally understood each other.
I got up, walked to the kitchen, and started putting away the dishes. My husband grabbed the stereo and said with a smile, “Let’s wash them together.”
Quality time and acts of service, all in one.
We’re learning slowly, patiently, to show love in ways that truly matter to each other. After ten years, we finally know how to love each other properly.
Because loving someone the way you want to be loved doesn’t always work—but loving someone the way they need to be loved? That changes everything.
Tonight, I have a date with my husband. One-on-one. Phones off. And I know this time, he’ll be all mine.
