No. 8: I Don't Owe Anyone My Emotional Availability-Even in Marriage

A Quiet Truth I’m Learning to Hold

There’s an unspoken expectation many of us carry, especially in marriage: That we should always be open. Always ready to listen. Always emotionally responsive, even if we’re depleted. Especially if we’re the more emotionally attuned one.

For a long time, I believed that was my role.

To be available.

To hold space.

To absorb.

To translate.

To soften.

Even when my own internal world was stretched thin and my reserves were gone. Especially in moments when he couldn’t or wouldn’t meet me emotionally—

I overcompensated.

I showed up anyway.

Because I thought I had to.

I thought it was what a loving, committed wife did. What a regulated, mature person did. What someone “emotionally safe” would always do.

But I’ve come to a quiet, liberating truth: I don’t owe anyone my emotional availability—not even in marriage.

Love Does Not Require Self-Erasure

There is a difference between being supportive and being expected to be endlessly available. There is a difference between connection and emotional over-functioning. And there is a profound difference between choosing to be present—and feeling obligated to be.

Being in a committed relationship doesn’t mean I forfeit the right to protect my inner space.

To say, “I can’t hold this right now.”

To step away when the conversation becomes manipulative or emotionally unsafe.

To choose silence—not out of punishment, but out of preservation.

Because my availability is not a service. It’s a gift. And like any gift, it should be given freely, not extracted.

What I’ve Learned to Ask Myself

Instead of asking:

– “Will this upset him if I disengage?”

– “Will I look cold or distant?”

– “Will he spiral if I don’t stay open?”

I’m learning to ask:

– “Is this a safe moment for me to stay emotionally present?”

– “Am I abandoning myself to stay connected to him?”

– “What would honoring myself look like right now?”

These questions don’t always lead to easy answers.But they lead to clarity.And clarity is the beginning of care.

Boundaries Aren’t Cold—They’re Clear

I used to think that pulling away was cruel. That withholding emotional energy made me hard or unloving. But what I’ve come to realize is: Withholding what I don’t have to give is a form of honesty. And honesty is more loving than pretending.

I can still be kind.

Still care.

Still hold hope for growth and repair.

But I no longer owe anyone—even my spouse—unfiltered, unlimited access to my emotional landscape. Especially if that access is not mutual. Especially if it comes at the cost of my own regulation or peace.

To the Women Who’ve Been Told Otherwise

If you’ve been conditioned to be emotionally generous no matter what—

If you’ve been made to feel cold or selfish for setting limits—

If you’ve been guilted for withdrawing to protect yourself—

This is your permission slip, OR rather this is your permission to tell yourself to stop absorbing these messages because…

You are not cruel for closing the door when your nervous system says no more.

You are not withholding love by drawing a line.

You are not responsible for someone else's discomfort when you reclaim your emotional space.

You are allowed to be available on your terms.

You are allowed to wait for safety before opening.

You are allowed to say: Not right now.

And the relationships that are truly rooted in love and respect—will learn to meet you there.

This month, I’m learning to value emotional availability as a sacred resource—not something to be handed out on demand. I’m learning to let my nervous system lead. I’m learning to love without betraying myself.

—Steph