“Marriage is a two-way street.”
You’ve heard it a thousand times. Maybe you’ve said it yourself, nodding along as friends offer this sage wisdom over coffee or scrolling past it on social media, wrapped in elegant script over a sunset photo. It sounds so reasonable, so fair, so right.
But what happens when one lane is completely blocked?
If you’re reading this, chances are you know exactly what that feels like. You’ve been waiting… hoping, trying, suggesting, pleading… for your spouse to meet you halfway. You’ve been the one initiating conversations about your relationship, the one buying the books, the one suggesting counseling. You’ve been standing at your end of that two-way street, watching for any sign of movement from the other direction.
And you’re tired of waiting.
Maybe you’ve been bargaining with yourself: “If they would just try a little harder…” or “Once they see how much this means to me….” Perhaps you've been keeping score, measuring every small gesture against the mountain of effort you've been putting in, feeling the familiar sting when the scales don't balance.
Here's what no one tells you about that beautiful two-way street metaphor: In crisis, clinging to it keeps you parked on the side of the road. While you’re waiting for fairness, for reciprocity, for your spouse to suddenly wake up and match your effort, your marriage continues to drift. The distance grows. The hope fades. The resentment builds.
If you want change — real, lasting change — you must start moving first.
The Appeal of the Two-Way Street
The “two-way street” metaphor doesn't just sound good; it feels right in every fiber of your being. It speaks to our deepest sense of justice and fairness. Marriage should be equal, reciprocal, a beautiful dance of give-and-take where both partners lean in with equal enthusiasm and effort.
And when marriages are healthy, that's exactly how it works. Partners naturally mirror each other’s investment. One person expresses appreciation, and the other responds in kind. Someone apologizes, and forgiveness flows both ways. There’s an organic rhythm of connection, repair, and growth that feels effortless because both people are actively participating.
But there's a deeper reason why you cling to this ideal, especially when your marriage is struggling. The two-way street promise offers three things that feel essential when everything else feels uncertain:
It feels just. After months or years of being the one who tries harder, who compromises more, who bends further, the idea that your spouse should finally step up feels like basic fairness. You’ve earned reciprocity through your effort and patience.
It protects you from being taken advantage of. Moving first, trying again, extending another olive branch — all of that feels risky when your previous efforts haven’t been matched. The two-way street metaphor gives you permission to wait, to protect yourself from the vulnerability of one-sided effort.
It promises shared responsibility. The weight of fixing your marriage feels impossibly heavy when you’re carrying it alone. The two-way street offers hope that eventually, finally, your spouse will pick up their half of the load.
These aren't foolish desires. They're deeply human longings for fairness, safety, and partnership. The problem isn't that you want these things. It’s that waiting for them when your marriage is in crisis becomes a trap that keeps you both stuck.
The Problem with the Myth
Here’s the uncomfortable truth that no one wants to acknowledge: life and marriage are not always (or even often) fair. And holding out for fairness, especially in a struggling relationship, often blocks the very action that could create change.
Think about it this way: if your house were on fire, would you stand in the doorway waiting for the flames to fairly distribute themselves before grabbing the fire extinguisher? Of course not. You’d act immediately. Not because it's fair, but because waiting guarantees disaster.
Yet in marriage, we do exactly this. We wait for our spouse to match our effort before we’ll take another step forward. We hold back our kindness until they show kindness first. We refuse to apologize until they apologize. And while we’re locked in this standoff, our relationship burns.
The waiting game breeds resentment and bitterness. Every day you wait for your spouse to step up is another day you’re mentally keeping score. Every unmatched gesture becomes evidence of their selfishness. Every one-sided conversation becomes proof that they don't care as much as you do. Instead of creating the connection you crave, waiting creates a growing inventory of grievances that poisons the very relationship you're trying to protect.
Inaction reinforces your spouse's narrative that “nothing can change.” When you stop trying, when you pull back and wait for them to make the first move, you inadvertently confirm their belief that your marriage is beyond repair. Your withdrawal becomes evidence that you’ve given up, which gives them permission to give up too. The very standoff meant to force change actually prevents it.
Consider Diane and Matt, married fifteen years. After a particularly painful fight, both waited for the other to apologize first. Diane thought, “He was wrong. He should come to me.” Matt thought the same thing. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. They lived as polite strangers, each waiting for the other to break first. Two years later, they sat in a lawyer’s office, both claiming the other “never tried to fix things.” Their commitment to fairness cost them their marriage.
Here’s the truth that changes everything: relationships transform when one person changes the equation, not when both people move simultaneously. Progress rarely happens when two people decide to try harder at exactly the same moment. It happens when one person breaks the pattern, shifts the dynamic, and creates new possibilities.
The One-Way Street Reality
Let’s flip the metaphor entirely. What if, instead of waiting for a two-way street, you thought of healing as starting with a one-way street — a path that you create through your own actions, your own choices, your own commitment to something better?
This isn’t about becoming a doormat or accepting unacceptable behavior. It's about recognizing a fundamental truth: one person can begin the work of healing without controlling the outcome.
Here’s the paradox that makes this powerful: when you stop waiting for your spouse to change, and start focusing on how you can lead differently, you actually create the conditions where change becomes possible for both of you.
Consider these real examples from my coaching practice:
Lisa was trapped in a cycle of explosive arguments with her husband Tom. Every conversation about their problems devolved into accusations and blame. Instead of waiting for Tom to learn how to fight fair, Lisa began practicing what I call ‘“calm response” — speaking slowly, acknowledging his feelings, and refusing to match his escalation. At first, Tom was suspicious. But within weeks, their arguments became shorter and less destructive. Tom began unconsciously mirroring her calmer approach. Lisa’s one-way work created a new pattern that invited Tom to engage differently.
David felt invisible in his marriage to Rachel. She was absorbed in her career and seemed to have no time for connection. Instead of waiting for Rachel to suddenly prioritize their relationship, David began investing in what I call “micro-connections” — a genuine compliment in the morning, a thoughtful text during her workday, five minutes of undivided attention when she came home. Initially, Rachel barely noticed. But gradually, she began responding, then initiating small gestures of her own. David’s consistent investment slowly shifted the emotional temperature of their marriage.
The key insight here is that one-way doesn't mean forever. When you create new patterns through consistent action, you often discover that your spouse was waiting too. Not for fairness, but for evidence that change was actually possible.
What “One-Way Work” Looks Like in Practice
One-way work isn't about trying harder at the same old things. It's about leading differently, and that starts with a fundamental shift in focus.
First, you anchor yourself in your values rather than your spouse's responses. Instead of asking “What will make them change?” you ask “What kind of person do I want to be in this marriage, regardless of what they do?” This shift from reactive to proactive changes everything about how you show up.
When you’re anchored in values, you speak calmly not because it guarantees your spouse will be calm, but because calm communication aligns with who you want to be. You choose kindness not because you’re certain it will be returned, but because kindness reflects your character. This internal stability becomes the foundation for everything else.
Second, you focus on consistency over intensity. Most people alternate between periods of heroic effort and periods of complete withdrawal. They try really hard for a week or two, get discouraged when they don't see immediate results, and then pull back entirely. This creates an unpredictable environment that actually makes change more difficult for everyone.
Instead, one-way work means choosing small, sustainable actions that you can maintain over time. It's better to have one genuine conversation per week for six months than to have six deep conversations in one week followed by months of silence.
Third, you master what I call “leading without pushing.” This means creating invitations rather than demands, modeling rather than lecturing, and staying committed to your path without trying to drag your spouse along.
What does this look like practically?
You speak calmly even when provoked. Not because you’re weak or passive, but because you understand that escalation never leads to the connection you actually want. When your spouse raises their voice, you lower yours. When they blame, you acknowledge without defending. When they withdraw, you stay present without chasing.
You invest in daily micro-connections. These are small, consistent gestures that slowly rebuild emotional safety: a genuine “good morning” instead of rushing past each other, asking one real question about their day, offering a brief physical touch without expectation, or simply putting down your phone when they're talking.
You choose steady, predictable behavior. This doesn't mean becoming boring or doormat-like. It means becoming someone your spouse can count on to respond with maturity, kindness, and strength, even in difficult moments. Predictability creates safety, and safety creates the conditions where vulnerability and change become possible.
The tools and frameworks I teach — like the ANCHOR Framework for emotional regulation and the principles in “When They're Not Trying” — all serve this central goal: helping you become the kind of person who can lead your marriage toward health, regardless of where your spouse currently stands.
The Fear Factor
If one-way work sounds terrifying, you’re not alone. Almost everyone I coach wrestles with the same fears, and they're completely understandable.
“What if I'm being taken advantage of?” This fear runs deep, especially if you’ve been the one trying harder for months or years. The idea of putting in even more effort while your spouse continues to coast feels fundamentally unfair. But here's what I’ve learned from working with hundreds of couples: the alternative… continued standoff… guarantees that nothing improves. At least with one-way work, you’re creating possibilities.
“What if I try alone and fail?” There's something uniquely painful about the thought of giving your all and still not seeing change. But consider this: you’re already failing by waiting. Your marriage is already stuck, already distant, already headed in a direction you don't want. One-way work doesn't guarantee success, but it's the only approach that makes success possible. As my colleague, Jack Canfield, notes: “It’s a no until you ask. It may still be a no… but asking is the only way to know.”
“This shouldn't be necessary.” This might be the biggest fear of all — the fear of accepting a reality that feels wrong. You’re right; ideally, both partners would engage equally from the start. But “should” is often the enemy of “could.” While you're focused on how things should be, you’re missing opportunities to influence how things could become.
Think of it like this: imagine you’re in a car that's stuck in mud, and you’re both sitting inside debating whose fault it is and who should get out first to push. Meanwhile, you’re sinking deeper. Someone has to get out and start pushing. Once the car starts moving, the person still inside can steer, help with momentum, or even get out to help. But nothing happens while you’re both sitting inside, waiting for the other to move first.
Courage isn't the absence of fear — it’s moving forward despite fear. It's choosing action over safety, possibility over certainty, and leadership over victimhood.
Your Next Move
The “two-way street” ideal is beautiful when a marriage is healthy. When both partners are engaged, when trust is strong, when communication flows easily, reciprocal effort feels natural and sustainable. But in crisis, this ideal becomes a prison that keeps you both trapped in patterns that aren’t working.
The hardest truth about marriage is this: someone has to go first. Someone has to break the cycle of waiting, blame, and mutual withdrawal. Someone has to risk moving toward connection before they’re certain it will be received.
Someone has to choose love as an action rather than just a feeling. That someone could be you.
This doesn’t mean accepting unacceptable behavior or enabling dysfunction. It doesn’t mean becoming a doormat or losing yourself in the process. It means recognizing that leadership — real, mature, values-based leadership — starts with one person deciding to be different, regardless of what anyone else does.
Stop waiting for the perfect moment when your spouse suddenly becomes as invested as you are. Stop keeping score of effort and fairness. Stop using their behavior as an excuse for your own inaction.
Start where you are. Start with small steps. Start with consistency over intensity. Start with leading yourself before trying to lead your marriage.
For readers who want to move from stuck to steady, here are the resources that can help:
When They’re Not Trying - click here to learn how to lead when your spouse is resistant or unwilling
The Daily Better - click here for building consistency systems that create lasting change
ANCHOR Framework - click here for emotional regulation and repair skills that transform conflict
The Lone Ranger Toolkit - click here for when you are working on things alone… and you aren’t sure how to move forward
Remember: You don't need both lanes open to start moving forward. All it takes is one person willing to drive.
The road ahead might be uncertain, but it's infinitely better than staying parked on the side of the road, waiting for conditions that may never come. Your marriage is waiting for someone to take the first step.
Why not let it be you?