The Fear That Made Her Interfere

Shulamis was convinced that if she didn’t step in, her children would be damaged for life.

That was the fear running through her all the time.

Not annoyance.
Not irritation.
Terror.

Shulamis came to coaching seething as she put it into words:

“If my husband keeps yelling at my kids like this, they’re going to be traumatized.
They won’t feel close to him.
And one day they’ll look back and wonder why I let him.”

So the moment her husband got firm or sharp or impatient…
Shulamis reacted before her mind could catch up.

She interrupted.
She corrected him in front of the kids.
She softened his words.
She shot him warning looks.
She followed up later with long explanations about tone, sensitivity, and how this could damage them forever.

She wasn’t trying to control her husband.
She was trying to save her children.

To be clear: we were not talking about physical abuse, intimidation, bullying, or danger.
There was no hitting, no threats, no fear for the children’s safety.
This was about a father who was firm, structured, and sharp in his tone.

Shulamis’s fear sounded responsible.
Convincing.
Maternal.

• They’re going to be emotionally scarred.

• They’ll never have a real connection with their father.

• This kind of discipline will push them away from Yiddishkeit.

• If I don’t step in, I’m failing them.

But over time, something painful became clear.

The kids were becoming more anxious, not calmer.
They watched every interaction closely.
They learned, without a word being said, that Abba was unsafe and Imma didn’t trust him.

And the marriage?

Cold.
Defensive.
Disconnected.

Shulamis was fighting fiercely for her children, but her marriage was losing its peace.

In coaching, we slowed everything down and named the fear, and then we gently dismantled it.

Because here’s the truth Shulamis had never been shown:

Firmness is not trauma.
Structure is not damage.
Discipline does not destroy connection.

In fact, when it comes from a father, it often does the opposite.

Children need two different energies.
Two styles.
Two approaches.

Hashem didn’t create two parents by mistake.

One brings softness.
One brings strength.
One brings nurture.
One brings structure.

Children need both.

What truly harms children long-term isn’t a father being firm.
It’s growing up in a home without Shalom Bayis.

Chronic tension.
Parents subtly undermining each other.
A mother stepping in real time to correct a father.

That instability is far more damaging than a raised voice ever could be.

For Shulamis, this was a turning point.

What Shulamis did instead - Relinquishing Control

Relinquishing control didn’t mean abandoning her children.

It meant releasing the belief that only she could keep them safe.

Shulamis practiced pausing instead of jumping in.
Letting her husband finish.
Resisting the urge to rescue.

No convincing.
No over-explaining.
No post-analysis.

It did not mean Shulamis stopped mothering.

It meant she stopped counter-parenting.

She learned not to pile on love, reassurance, or “undo” his discipline while it was happening because that sent a message that Abba was wrong and unsafe.

But outside of those moments?

She showed up fully as a mother.

She poured on warmth.
She offered hugs.
She spoke positive, strengthening words.
She built the kids up emotionally.
She reassured them of how loved, capable, and good they are.

She chose her timing carefully.

Instead of rescuing during discipline, she nurtured when it didn’t undermine their father.

This way, the children received both:

• their father’s structure and leadership

• their mother’s warmth and emotional safety

Without being pulled into loyalty conflicts.

What it’s like now

The shift wasn’t dramatic, but it was profound.

The kids relaxed, because their parents were no longer at odds.
Their father felt respected and softened naturally.
And the children’s connection to him deepened, not weakened.

They trusted him more.
They listened more.
They felt safer because the home felt stable.

Shulamis finally saw what had been so painful to admit:

Her constant stepping in wasn’t protecting the kids.
It was creating distance between them and their father.

And once she stopped interfering, Hashem filled in the rest.

The truth that changes everything

Fear feels maternal.
It feels responsible.
It feels righteous.

But fear is not wisdom.

Children don’t need perfect parents.
They need peace.
They need two parents standing together, even when they’re different.

Shulamis didn’t have to keep jumping in to protect her children at the cost of Shalom Bayis — and neither do you.
There is a wiser, calmer way to parent together, one that protects children and preserves their connection to their father.

If this is your struggle too, let's work through it together.
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You don’t have to choose between being a devoted mother and having peace in your home.