I am learning as I age that the amount of anxiety I’ve somehow learned to balance so as to get from A to B, since my earliest memories, is abnormal. I know. Novel idea, right?

Fast forward from childhood sleepless nights of worrying about things beyond my control to my mid-30s and . . . wait for it . . . still up all night, mind reeling, to-do list-making, replaying the things that happened/could’ve happened/might have happened. It is exhausting.

When it comes to my husband and my kids, my anxiety is infinitely multiplied. If they are five minutes late, I assume they are dead on the side of the road somewhere. If they haven’t texted me back after a few minutes, I worry they have been abducted.

I am aware this is extreme, but this is the life I do my best to pray through and manage with medication. It can (and did) affect relationships in destructive ways.

But this is what I am learning when it comes to my husband.

Fellow women of worry: Let. Him. Go.

Our husbands need time to refuel, to talk about sports or hunting, books or history . . . whatever they are into. They need a space that is safe for them to vent or be held accountable. They deserve to be built up from other men. Even if all they are doing is playing cards or golf, or drinking craft beer that would make my stomach turn while laughing at action movies I am happy to skip.

Just as I begin to picture myself spinning circles of joy with my Starbucks cup in the kid-free aisles of Target, I am reminded that my husband needs the same. Whether he needs a video game date with the boys or a night out working on cars, your man needs bro time. Ladies, this will be a good thing for you.

I have learned that whenever I am able to cut the proverbial cord (something I legitimately pray through daily), the more my husband returns to me refreshed, happy, energized, and appreciative of me. See, his buddies don’t smell good or cook him food. They don’t provide the safe haven I can give him. He isn’t choosing them over me. He sincerely needs to recharge.

So, mamas, just as you should be intentional about making time to take care of yourself, let them go. You will thank each other and your kids will appreciate the new and rejuvenated you.

Brynn Burger

Mental health advocate, extreme parent, lover of all things outdoors, and sometimes a shell of my former self. Parenting a child with multiple behavior disabilities has become both my prison and my passion. I write so I can breathe. I believe that God called me to share, with violent vulnerability and fluent sarcasm, our testimony to throw a lifeline to other mamas who feel desperate to know they aren't alone. I laugh with my mouth wide open, drink more cream than coffee, and know in my spirit that queso is from the Lord himself. Welcome!