The Marriage Advice Our Young Men Are Hearing—And Why It’s Not Helping

There is a kind of marriage advice that gets repeated often to young men and usually with the best intentions. Much of it comes from rabbis and mentors who genuinely care about shalom bayis (peace in the home) and want to protect marriages. At the same time, some of this advice causes real harm.

Many young men, especially early in marriage, are told things like “Just don’t say anything,” “Pick your battles,” She’s always right,” “She’s the boss!” and “That’s just how marriage is,” or my personal favorite, “Happy wife, happy life!” On the surface, this advice sounds wise. It sounds like maturity, letting go of ego (being “mevater”) and choosing peace over conflict. And sometimes, in specific circumstances, it can be helpful. Not every irritation needs to be addressed. Not every feeling needs to be shared right away. Learning to pause is a good skill. But when this becomes the default guidance, it teaches people to stay quiet instead of learning how to communicate.

There is a big difference between knowing when to hold back and being told to routinely swallow your feelings. One is emotional regulation; the other is emotional suppression. Telling someone not to say anything in a heated moment can prevent escalation, but telling them to suppress themselves can lead to distance, resentment, and loneliness in a marriage over time.

“Pick your battles” can slowly turn into nothing is worth addressing.

“Let it go” can turn into your experience doesn’t matter.

“She’s always right” can turn into one partner opting out of emotional responsibility altogether.

“Happy wife, happy life” can send a subtle message that one partner’s emotional experience matters more than the other’s.

These phrases are more often directed at men, with the expectation that passivity and silence equal wisdom and maturity. Marriages do not fall apart because people talk too much; they fall apart because people do not know how to talk in ways that help their partner hear them.

I want to be clear why I am specifically naming rabbis here. I have seen too many young couples struggle because of advice their rebbeim gave them. This starts during Israel gap years, continues in pre-marital classes, and then again when couples inevitably reach out to their rabbi during moments of real stress and tension. These are high impact moments. And the guidance they are given often carries more weight than anyone realizes.

In my experience, this is more often an issue for men than for women. Don’t get me wrong, women get their share of bad advice too, but there is often an unspoken assumption that women are emotionally intuitive and men are emotionally limited. The guidance men receive is often some version of “Stay quiet,” “Don’t push back,” or “Just do what your wife wants.” Over time, this kind of advice can train men to disengage emotionally and at the same time paints women as hysterics who need someone to manage them rather than partner with them. That framing does not honor men or women, and it certainly does not strengthen marriages and families.

The idea that a wife will be happy if her husband simply goes along with everything she wants misses the point, plus it’s not true. Most women do not want to be in charge of everything. They want a partner, not a subordinate and not a child.

Despite what our culture says (and teaches), men have emotional depth. They are capable of reflection, growth, repair, and emotional presence. We should give them more credit, not less. And we should expect more of them, not by shaming or silencing, but by teaching them the skills to show up emotionally and rise to the challenge of partnership.

I understand on some level why this advice is shared. Rabbis are often asked to weigh in on complicated emotional situations. They are trying to calm things down, not make things worse. But quick guidance can easily turn into simplistic advice, which is not enough to sustain a marriage. Words spoken in moments of guidance carry real weight. A short sentence can stay with a couple for years and that is an enormous responsibility.

Healthy self-awareness asks all of us to reflect not only on what we intend, but on the impact of our words. It asks us to notice when guidance meant to preserve peace may unintentionally create a different set of problems or when advice meant to protect a marriage may ask one partner to shrink. This is not about blame. It’s about pausing to ask whether our guidance is actually helping couples build love, respect, and real connection, or simply helping them avoid conflict and discomfort.

Marriage is not built by one person disappearing so the other can feel calm. It’s built when both people learn how to stay present, even when something feels uncomfortable. Avoiding conflict is not the same as building closeness. Absence of fighting is not the same as having peace.

If we want to offer couples something more helpful, the guidance can be simple without shutting them down.

Instead of “Just don’t say anything,” how about saying: Slow down, calm yourself, and come back to the conversation later. Instead of “Let it go,” we can ask: Is this something you can truly release, or is it something that needs to be addressed gently. Instead of “She’s always right/she’s the boss,” we can remind couples that both people matter and both are accountable for their behavior. Instead of “happy wife, happy life,” we can teach that two people who feel seen, heard, respected, and responsible for their role in the relationship make for a connected and healthy couple.

These kinds of messages invite intimacy and trust instead of avoidance and disconnect.

There is also a need for discernment around when to refer out. Some questions are not halachic orhashkafic questions. They are emotional, relational, or psychological ones. Especially during high stress moments, early marriage, or ongoing patterns of conflict, the most responsible guidance may be to say, “This feels bigger than a quick answer. Let’s bring in someone trained to help with this.”

Rabbis do not need to carry this alone. Collaboration is not a threat to rabbinic authority. It is a strength. There are many G-d-fearing, Torah loving, halachically observant therapists who understand the values of our community and can help couples build real skills. Encouraging couples to seek that support is not a failure. It is leadership.

I want to note my appreciation for Rabbi Larry Rothwachs’s recent article on pastoral roles and boundaries. I found his framing thoughtful and responsible, and I’m grateful for rabbinic voices that are willing to speak openly about the limits of the role and the value of collaboration (“Supporting Rabbis and Protecting Congregants: A shared communal responsibility” on his website larryrothwachs.com).

When rabbis model and normalize reaching out to mental health professionals, it reduces stigma around therapy. That normalization makes it easier for couples to ask for help earlier, before things feel unmanageable. That can save relationships, and in some cases even lives.

Not everyone will go to therapy. That makes it even more important that the advice people receive is thoughtful and grounded, not oversimplified. Collaboration does not mean handing everything off to therapists. It means knowing when to refer out and how to offer guidance that is careful, nuanced, and actually helpful.

Part of knowing when to refer out is recognizing that there are few rules that are universal to every relationship and every situation. Context matters. Keen judgment, timing, and emotional awareness are crucial.

This is not an argument for telling our young men that they should be unfiltered and say everything they feel and think all the time. Sometimes the most responsible thing to do is pause, regulate yourself, and come back to the conversation later. Sometimes some matters are truly not worth pursuing.

But knowing the difference requires skill. It requires knowing how to listen without getting defensive. It requires knowing how to speak without attacking. It requires knowing how to repair after you hurt each other. Without these skills, silence becomes a way to avoid growth, not preserve peace.

This is not about rejecting tradition or rabbinic authority. It’s a call to refine and deepen the guidance we give couples. Shalom bayis is not so fragile that it depends on one partner shrinking or staying quiet. It can hold openness and honesty when it is offered with care and responsibility.

If we want strong marriages, we need to teach people how to stay connected through discomfort, not just how to avoid it. We need to focus less on teaching men to shut up and teach them to “show up.”

That work is much harder than offering one line advice, but it’s what actually helps marriages last. There are professionals who dedicate their work to helping couples build these skills, and partnering with them strengthens the guidance couples receive.

If we can reflect honestly on where our guidance helps, where it falls short, and where collaboration and support are needed, we can do better by the marriages we are trying to protect. n

Rachel Tuchman, LMHC, is a licensed therapist in private practice. She not only treats a variety of mental-health concerns, but also shares psychoeducation via her social media platform, public speaking, and online courses. You can learn more about Rachel’s work at RachelTuchman.com and follow her on Instagram @rachel_tuchman_lmhc.