My dear husband,

You are a fixer.

A good one. I love that about you. You are a top-notch problem-solver, a Handy Andy. You always have a solution for me, and I come to you for that a lot. I want to know your thoughts, what you think I should do or shouldn’t do. Honestly, I depend on your input when it comes to making decisions, big or small. I so appreciate your wisdom—it’s one of the things I fell in love with.

But sometimes, I’m not interested in speaking with Mr. Fixer (even though he’s awesome). Sometimes, I just want to talk to my husband.

A few weeks ago, I was so sad. And it wasn’t a sadness you had caused—it wasn’t your fault, or anyone’s fault really. I was sad about circumstances beyond my control.

This happens sometimes. I’ll find out about something that completely shatters my heart, and the first person I want to talk to about it is you.

But Mr. Fix-It, my love, here’s the thing. 

When I come to you and confide in you a deep and gnawing sadness. 

When I tell you that I feel like I dropped the ball or I should’ve done better to make the people in my world feel loved. 

When I cry about regret but also about the brokenness of this world that sometimes makes the darkness feel heavy and immovable.

Just hold me.

I know you are desperate to bring me relief. I know all you are trying to do is make me feel better (and stop crying, because we both know how much you love it when I cry . . . not).

But please, just let me be sad. Resist all those big, brawny urges to solve the problem. Yes, you might offer some fantastic solutions. Yes, you might even say good things, advice I might ask you for on another day.

But in those raw moments, I just want to be held. I just need you to let me be sad, and maybe even be sad with me. Let me be disappointed, in myself even, and bear down into the regret or the pain or the grief I’m feeling.

I think I just need to let that sadness overwhelm me and not make any attempts to un-feel it. Because I think the only way to fix it is to feel it. I’m not saying I’ll be sad forever. I’m just saying I’d rather feel it deeply all at once than let it come in shallow waves for weeks on end.

I love your wisdom—and I promise, I will back for that soon.

But in those first moments of sadness, here is exactly what I want you to do: hug me tightly, cry with me (or just let me cry as long as I need to), stroke my hair, and tell me how much you love me.

That’s it. It’s so much easier than any solution. I just want to feel safe and loved, when things around me feel untethered and cold.

I’m so thankful to be married to someone who desires my happiness. 

I love you,
Your wife