The Most Excruciating Way to Restore Respect

Toby was right.
Ninety-nine percent right.
And it was destroying her marriage.

They were driving to an out-of-town simcha.

The kind Toby had planned down to the minute.
Leave early enough to say mazel tov before the bedeken.
Account for traffic.
Get a babysitter and give her minute-by-minute instructions.

And then… the driving started.

“Can you slow down?” Toby said, gripping the door handle.
“You’re switching lanes again. Just stay put. It’s making me so nervous.”
“Why are you taking this route? Waze says the other way is faster.”
“Your driving is a chillul Hashem.”

He exhaled sharply.
“I’ve got it.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued, voice tight,
Why can’t you just do it for me?”

“We’re fine. Why can’t you just trust me for once?” he snapped.

“Because your driving is really scary,” she said.
Which was true.

But her fear actually sounds like criticism to him.

Here’s the part Toby didn’t want to look at:
He hadn’t been in an accident in at least 15 years, B”H.

And if they were late?

Nothing catastrophic would happen.  But it would be hard.

They’d get home later, and she would be exhausted the next day. 
The babysitter would cost more, be annoyed and never come again; it would be crazy to find another one next time.

Basically, all of her well-laid-out plans would be for nothing.  It was so frustrating!!

But was it worth the cost to her marriage to keep trying to control him?

When Toby came to coaching, she was furious.

“He owes me an apology,” she said.
“I was scared. I was right. I’m not apologizing.”

And honestly?
She was mostly right.

But waiting for his apology is an endless endeavor.

And meanwhile the resentment didn’t fade, it grew.
Until she couldn’t even remember what she was originally so angry about.
Just that she was angry.
And justified.

Waiting had turned into punishment.
For him.
And for her.

And demanding an apology was like standing over a three-year-old who just hit his sister.

If he does mumble something under his breath, does she feel better?
Of course not.

She didn’t want words dragged out under pressure.
She wanted change.
She wanted to feel safe, seen, and respected.

And demanding an apology was never going to give her that.

All it did was keep her stuck while the resentment quietly hardened inside her.

Because a forced apology doesn’t heal.
It just proves who had the power in that moment.

And being “right” like that never actually feels good.

You can force the words.
You can’t force respect.

So Toby did something excruciating.

She cleaned up her side of the street.

Not for him.
For herself.
For her own self-respect.
For the woman she wants to be.

So she went first.  Even though her mind screamed, This isn’t fair. He should be the one apologizing.

It felt like saying his behavior was fine.

Her heart pounded. She could feel the words feeling heavy and humiliating.  She wanted to win.

But underneath all of that was something loftier.
The woman she wants to be.  And she chose her.

“I want to say something,” she said quietly.

He braced himself.

“I apologize for being disrespectful when I told you how to drive,” Toby said.
“I trust you to get us places safely and at the right time. And I’m really grateful you do the driving so I can sit back and relax.”

Silence.

Then he just said softly, “Thanks.”

He didn’t snarkily remind her about the accident she was in last year.  He didn’t reject it and say, “Whaever. You’re just gonna do it again next time we drive together.”

When Toby apologized for her part…the correcting, the advising
she opened up space for reflection and connection

Instead of defending himself,
he was left noticing his part.

And even when he didn’t say it out loud,
something softened.

Because the apology was never about getting the right response from him.  It was about showing up the way she wants to show up, with self-respect, integrity, and calm, no matter what he does next. 

Respect isn’t about who’s right.
It’s about who you’re choosing to be. 

She is not responsible for his driving choices.
She is responsible for how she treats her husband.

Fear doesn’t give us a free pass to control.  It comes with a cost. 

Control, even well-intentioned and justified, erodes connection.

Respect restores it.

Demanding an apology never feels as good
as becoming the woman who no longer needs to apologize.

If you’re stuck waiting for an apology…
If you’re right but still feel distant and disconnected…
If fear keeps slipping out as correction, advice, or control…

You don’t have to navigate this alone.

Schedule a free call with me here

Let’s look at what’s really happening underneath the resentment and how to restore respect without betraying yourself.