I was putting my kids first, and my husband last

There’s a sentence I’ve heard from my husband more times than I’d like to admit:
‘I feel like I’m last on your list.’

Every time he said it, my gut reaction was to defend. To explain. To justify.
‘No, that’s not true.’
‘I’m doing my best.’
‘I care about your feelings.’
But deep down, I didn’t want to believe that I could be hurting the person I love most.

I didn’t realize that the thing I kept denying was actually true.

It all came to a head recently as we were preparing for a huge shift in our family, an amazing extended vacation we’d been planning for a long time - that required us to either sell or rent our home. We had bought this house after the Maui fires, after moving multiple times in eight months. It was the first safe landing after chaos. My children finally exhaled. We all did.

So when my husband got a call offering us a long-term rental solution, and it meant moving again…I lost it.
Absolutely not, I said.
We are not doing that to the kids. They’ve finally landed. They’re happy. I won’t uproot them so quickly, and temporarily again.

I sobbed, a heavy emotional release. Not just about this decision, but about all the trauma we had carried, all the instability I never wanted to relive.
And, as always, my husband said: ‘Okay. Whatever you want.’

But something inside me knew this wasn’t just about the kids.
That night, I sat with it. I meditated. I let myself feel everything. Deeply, honestly, making space for clarity, for truth.
And what came through hit me like a wave:
This is what he’s been trying to tell me.
This right here, this choice I was about to make, was a perfect reflection of what he’s felt for years.

His feelings? Dismissed.
His needs? Secondary.
Not because I didn’t care, but because I believed I was doing what was right for the family.

But what about what’s right for him?

What about honoring the fact that he has carried a massive financial weight so our family could heal and move forward? What about being his teammate, not just in words, but in choices?

That moment cracked something open inside me.
I saw it. And I couldn’t unsee it.

So I walked to him, heart in hand, told him he was right, the rental was the best plan for us, and more importantly that I had seen what he’d been telling me. I’d been putting the children's feelings ahead of his. For a long time. And I was sorry.

His relief was instant. His face softened.
He felt heard. Honored. Seen.

And that moment? It became a turning point in our marriage.

Because self-reflection doesn’t just change you. It transforms your relationships.
When you own something, like really own it, without defensiveness or excuses, it opens the door to healing.

 It creates a new energy. A pattern interrupt. A shift.

Now, I check in with myself more often.
Not just: What do the kids need?
But also: What does my partner need?

Because choosing to reflect doesn’t mean guilt.
It means responsibility.
It means love in action.

A Reminder:

Self-reflection + ownership = breakthrough.

It’s not always easy. But it’s always worth it.
And it might just be the very thing that brings you back home, to yourself, and to those you love most.