Tzivia bakes sourdough every week.
Her home is spotless (ok, right after the cleaning lady is done).
She dresses tastefully.
She even says Tehillim every day.

And still… she felt hollow.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to. Why do I feel like a shadow of myself?”

A wife. A mother. But not… ...

When Tzippy and I met on that Wednesday morning, she looked polished on the outside but her eyes told a different story.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, twisting a strand of her sheitel.
“I do everything for my husband. Everything. I am such a good wife! And somehow… the more I try, the farthe...

The baby was screaming. The two-year-old was pouring orange juice onto the floor. The kitchen was a disaster.

And her husband?

He was sitting at the Shabbos table. Relaxed. Eating a second bowl of cholent like it was a hotel buffet.

“Are you really just sitting there?” Naomi finally snapped.

He ...

Most women don’t say it out loud.

But inside, they’re carrying a heavy, invisible burden that feels exhausting, lonely, and sometimes… completely overwhelming. 

It’s the feeling of holding absolutely everything together… by yourself.

You’re remembering appointments.
Managing homework.
Tracking bi...

The silence in the car was deafening.
Sitting for hours on end with absolutely nothing to talk about.
 

No warmth. No laughter. No spark.

They used to talk about everything — the kids, work, dreams, hashkafah.

Now, every word felt forced. Every attempt fell flat.

Tova  told me, “We live in the sam...

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Her husband had handed their son an unfiltered tablet and opened YouTube.

Miriam froze.
Her heart pounded, her stomach twisted, and every part of her wanted to shout,

“What are you doing?! You’re corrupting the kids!”

Instead, she turned away and lo...

The house was quiet, but not peaceful.
Every sound felt sharp.
The way he turned the page of his sefer, the way she closed a cabinet - each movement carried tension.

They hadn’t fought in days, but they hadn’t spoken either.
She’d stopped trying. He’d stopped caring.

And in that silence, someth...

She used to think she was the crazy one.

Every argument somehow became her fault.
He’d say things that left her shaking and then act like nothing happened.

Her husband’s words had grown sharper over the years, laced with sarcasm and criticism, and cruel comments that left her feeling small and sh...

“I don’t even like the way he chews.”
That’s how Sara started our session - half-laughing, half-crying.
She wasn’t trying to be cruel. She was just… done.

Every little thing about her husband irritated her — the way he drove, the way he dressed, the way he walked and talked.
She felt resentful, dis...