Dear leader,

Stop assuming your partner knows what you need.

You may be a woman managing everything—career, household, children, the invisible load of planning, remembering, coordinating. Someone who says "I'm fine" when asked how she's doing, even as resentment builds with every unshared responsibility.

But what others don't see is the slow erosion happening beneath the surface. The distance growing between you and your partner, not because either of you stopped caring, but because neither of you actively maintained the connection when everything got hard.

In my last entry, you learned to let yourself be witnessed, i.e. to break the silence that perpetuates isolation. Now comes the work of actively maintaining your most important relationships when you're exhausted and everything is changing. Because letting yourself be seen is just the beginning. Maintaining your bonds through chaos requires intention.

I'm sharing this not because I have it all figured out. My husband and I are still navigating these dynamics. But I've learned hard lessons about what happens when you don't actively maintain relationships during major transitions.

I was pregnant and almost ready to give birth with my second daughter when my husband received a job opportunity in Dubai. On paper, it was incredible for him. For me, it meant leaving a Director promotion I'd achieved less than six months before and moving halfway across the world with no family, no friends, no support system beyond him.

We made the decision "together", but what was never discussed was the professional cost to me, the isolation I would feel managing two daughters alone while he established himself in his new role, what support would look like when our usual systems were gone. I thought he should just know how hard it was. He thought I was handling it fine because I wasn't saying otherwise.

For years, I carried the grief of my pregnancy losses and the sacrifice of my career largely alone. It wasn't until marriage counseling almost a decade later that I fully expressed how deeply those experiences affected me. Not because he didn't care, but because I hadn't communicated it clearly and he hadn't known how to ask.

The people closest to you can't support struggles they don't know exist. That's the cost of not maintaining relationships through transition.

Then came COVID. We'd moved back to the U.S. by then, and I was Executive Director level. If Dubai revealed gaps in how we navigated change together, COVID exposed how those patterns had persisted.

He retreated to the basement every day with the same schedule, same focus, and uninterrupted trajectory. Meanwhile, I was expected to manage my full work schedule plus the kids' remote school schedules, cooking, cleaning, and somehow maintaining my mental capacity while the world fell apart.

Society doesn't prepare us for this. Even when both partners work, one person (usually the woman) absorbs all the invisible labor. Eventually I broke.

So we had an explicit conversation. Not a hopeful "we should share responsibilities better" conversation, but a clear delineation: he would take charge of cooking and grocery shopping. That still holds true today, even though when he travels I'm back to juggling most of it again.

Just recently, we had prearranged our calendars weeks in advance to have him take responsibility for school pick up and activities drop off, necessitated for a two-month contract I had. Halfway through, he told me he could no longer do one of the days. Instead of immediately scrambling to rearrange my professional commitment like I always do, I said: "I can't change my contract so can you come up with alternative solutions to discuss?".

You can't assume your partner sees the weight you're carrying. "Helping" isn't the same as shared responsibility. Even when you wish they'd just notice and step up, you have to communicate explicitly what needs to change.

Relationships drift through neglect, not malice.

Recent research shows this pattern everywhere. 68% of working mothers cite their manager and workplace culture as the biggest factor in their return-to-work experience. 97.5% would stay longer at companies that truly support them. So the message is clear: people don't leave jobs because they stop caring, they leave because the relationship wasn't actively maintained through change (Executive Moms Report, 2026).

The same principle applies to personal relationships. Whether with a partner, employer, or friend, relationships require intentional communication, boundary-setting, and shared responsibility for connection.

I recently came across a LinkedIn post that captured this perfectly. It described a mother breastfeeding in her car before a client meeting because her pump broke, her childcare fell through, and her partner texted "Can't help, big pitch today". She walked into her meeting smiling. No one knew she hadn't eaten or slept in weeks.

This is what happens when one partner consistently carries the full operational and emotional weight while the other's path remains unobstructed. Real partnership means taking the early morning shift without being reminded. Carrying the emotional map of your child's life, not just the logistics. Stepping into the chaos without waiting to be asked. Redistributing weight before someone buckles under it.

So what does actively maintaining your bonds actually look like?

• Have an explicit conversation about responsibilities. List everything required to run your household, project, team, etc. Who handles what? Is this sustainable? What needs to shift? Don't wait for a crisis—schedule regular check-ins where what's working is shared, and what's not.

• Set boundaries with family and team members that protect connection. You can love someone and still set boundaries. Try: "That doesn't work for our family right now" or "I need to prioritize my immediate family during this period". Boundaries protect your capacity to show up authentically rather than resentfully.

• Lower the bar for friendship. Text check-ins count. Phone calls while doing chores count. "I can't meet up but I'm thinking of you" is better than silence. Accept that some friendships will naturally drift and that's okay, you don't have to maintain every connection at the same intensity.

Take time this week to identify one early warning sign of relationship drift. Are you saying "I'm fine" when you’re not? Are you avoiding difficult conversations because you're "too tired"? Are you assuming people should just know what you need? Address the small disconnection now before it becomes a big resentment.

You've broken your silence by letting yourself be witnessed. Now you're learning to actively maintain your most important connections through chaos. In my next entry, we'll explore the final shift in the S.M.A.R.T. Journey to Parenting™: modeling self-awareness and emotional presence. Because the way you show up in your relationships becomes what others learn from you—whether that's your children learning about boundaries and connection, or your team learning about accountability and respect.

Remember, maintaining your bonds isn't about perfect communication, it's about consistent effort to stay connected even when it's really hard to do so.

From my desk to yours,
Dr. Michelle El Khoury

P.S. Ready to build sustainable practices? Visit programs.yogamazia.com to access free resources for your perinatal journey.