Married for 7 Years: Should I Keep Going or Stop Here?

Let’s talk about this:

Hello. I’m a woman, 32 years old. My husband is 36.

We’ve been married for 7 years and we don’t have children yet.
I work from home. My husband trades stocks.
He covers all household expenses, but I’m the one who manages the finances, documents, and pays the bills.

We’ve been together almost 24 hours a day, every day, for many years.
But the longer we live together, the more distant I feel, because day to day we hardly talk about anything beyond basic, routine things.
Most of the time we sit in the same room—he looks at his screen, I look at mine—like we’re just roommates.

He doesn’t take me on dates. There aren’t any surprises. There are only gifts on special occasions (I choose them, he pays).

I feel like he doesn’t care or pay attention to me as much as he should.
I have to plan and manage almost everything by myself.
In my free time, I like using it to develop myself, but he prefers to rest—like playing games or watching TV.
He’s not someone with big goals; he just wants to live happily day by day and have some savings, and that’s enough for him.
I’m someone with goals and dreams that keep getting bigger, so I feel like our lifestyles are starting not to match.

When we fight, most of the time he goes silent.

I’ve asked him to communicate with me more so I can know what he’s thinking,

Deep down, I feel he stays silent because he’s the kind of person who doesn’t like solving problems, but prefers to escape problems instead.

The good things about my husband are that he’s calm, he respects me, he loves and accepts everything about me.
He doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, isn’t addicted to gambling, there’s no woman trouble to worry about, and he helps with all household chores.
(But I still have to follow behind him and pick up after him most of the time, like he doesn’t put clothes in the laundry basket, or when he cleans the house he doesn’t put all the equipment away properly.)

Like I said above, I feel like we’re just roommates, and I have to carry everything alone.
We’ve talked and tried to adjust, but every time it gets better for only 2–3 days and then goes back to the same as before.

So I’m thinking… maybe I should stop here. At least then I can use the time I have left to find happiness for myself.
I’m not thinking about dating or being with anyone new after breaking up with him, because I feel like I won’t find someone who loves me and is as good to me as he is.

But if I choose to keep going, at least I still have him to help me sometimes, and I won’t have to worry about work or money as much as I would if I didn’t have him.

Honestly, I still have a small hope that one day he might change himself. But this problem is the same problem I’ve had since we were newly married.
Up to today, he still hasn’t changed for me. It makes me feel full and saturated with married life already.

---

Here’s how I see it:

Okay. Let’s talk like friends who give advice without sugarcoating it. And I’m going to reality-check both sides—especially you too—because in marriage, even if a couple looks “very good,” if you accidentally replay the same roles over and over, you can still drive the relationship into the ground.

1) Before deciding “continue or stop,” we have to name the problem correctly.

From what you described, this isn’t about “he’s bad” or “you’re too demanding.”
This is a classic relationship that has deteriorated into roommate mode (roommate syndrome)—and it’s been fast-tracked by three major factors:

• Being together almost 24/7 for years

• Living at different rhythms (you grow by self-development / he recharges by resting)

• When conflict happens, you fall into the cycle of “one person pursues with questions, the other withdraws into silence” (Demand–Withdraw cycle)

And that third cycle is the slow killer. No third party needed. No alcohol. No gambling. No big scandals.
But love can still dry up—like a plant nobody waters. Nobody pours boiling water on it either. It just quietly dies from neglect.

You said, “We talk and adjust; it gets better for 2–3 days.”
That means… he’s not incapable of caring (because he does try).
But he doesn’t have a system, and doesn’t have the internal drive to sustain new behavior long-term.

Love alone isn’t enough. You need a relationship maintenance system, like a business: if there are no KPIs, no meetings, no performance reviews, you can have a company full of good people—and still see revenue drop every quarter.

2) You feel like you’re “carrying everything alone” because you are—but there may also be parts you don’t “let go.”

I’m going to be blunt: couples like this often have a two-layer burden.

Layer 1: You truly carry it.

• You handle finances, documents, bills, life planning, relationship planning

• Gifts are “you choose, he pays” = you carry almost all the mental load

• Dates/surprises/moments = you’re the one who thinks and pushes

This is the invisible labor that drains you, because it’s like being the “project manager of the relationship,” while the other person becomes “the quiet employee who waits for instructions.”

Layer 2: You might be carrying so much that he doesn’t need to grow.

This part stings, but it matters:
When one partner is competent, organized, and highly responsible, it can quietly create a household system where…

• If he doesn’t do it, you do it anyway

• If he doesn’t decide, you decide for both

• If he doesn’t initiate, you initiate

Over time, his brain learns:

“If I don’t do it, it’s fine—she’ll do it.”

And your brain learns:

“I really am alone in this relationship.”

A system where both lose:
You get exhausted + he retreats + you pursue harder + he goes quieter.

I’m not blaming you. I’m saying: if you want him to change, you must stop building an environment where he never has to change.
(Yes, it’s unfair that the person who wants the relationship to improve has to start first… but in real life, the person who wakes up first usually has to turn on the lights.)

3) “He’s silent” doesn’t always mean “he’s escaping”—it might mean “he lacks the skill.”

There are several types of silence under pressure:

• Avoidance – doesn’t want to solve anything; tired/lazy/doesn’t care

• Shutdown from overload – the brain flips into defense mode; can’t think, can’t speak; afraid of saying the wrong thing and making it worse

• Doesn’t know what to say – never learned emotional language; being asked “what are you thinking?” feels like being asked to solve calculus without ever studying math

• Believes silence = respect – some think “not arguing” = “not hurting each other”

• Doesn’t see it as a problem – feels like “we’re fine, we’re not fighting every day,” so he doesn’t grasp where you’re suffering

All of these produce the same outcome: you feel alone.
But the solutions are very different.

You said it’s been like this since early marriage.
That suggests it’s his baseline style, not a temporary phase.

So the real question isn’t “Will he change?”

It’s: Is he willing to practice? And are you willing to change the shared system?

4) “Different life goals” may not be 100% incompatibility—but you must agree on a shared definition of happiness.

You’re growth-oriented.
He’s contentment-oriented.

Neither is wrong. But if you don’t talk clearly, the conversation in your head becomes:

• “I’m running toward the future.”

• “He’s lying down in the present.”

• “Am I going to drag him for the rest of my life?”

• “Or should I run alone?”

If you keep that inside, it often evolves into quiet contempt. Not yelling—just a silent belief: “He doesn’t grow,” “He has no ambition,” “I’m growing alone.”
And one day it slips out as a sentence that wounds him without you intending it.

A quick reality-check for you:

People who love self-development can fall into a trap where ambition becomes the measuring stick of someone else’s worth.

You don’t mean to look down on him, but you can unconsciously link “a good person” with “hardworking / passionate / goal-driven,”

even though humans have many dimensions of value—calmness, loyalty, emotional stability, responsibility, etc.

But he also needs a reality-check:

If “I’m happy with day-to-day life” really means “I don’t need to invest in the relationship,” that’s not contentment anymore. That’s complacency.

5) You’re standing in front of two doors: “rebuild the structure” or “end it with dignity.”

I’m not going to tell you to divorce or stay and clap for you.
I’ll give you decision criteria you can actually use.

Door A: Continue (but not continue the old way).

You can continue if this one thing is true:

He’s willing to put in measurable effort, and you’re willing to release some control so he has space to grow.

If you continue while it stays like this:

• You talk, he stays silent

• You plan, he follows

• You feel alone, he says “But we’re together, aren’t we?”

Then you won’t get a marriage—you’ll get a company where you’re the only CEO. You’ll burn out.

Door B: Stop here (but not stop as an escape).

You can stop if this one thing is true:

You’ve tried in a structured way, and he repeatedly doesn’t cooperate—so it’s clear the relationship won’t grow beyond this point.

A breakup doesn’t require anyone to be evil.
Some couples end simply because loneliness inside their own home becomes unbearable.

6) What you think you “gain” by staying may be a trap: financial stability ≠ emotional stability.

You were very direct (and that’s good):

• If you stay: you have help; less worry about money/work

• If you leave: you can use your remaining time to find happiness for yourself

A blunt friend warning:

Don’t trade your entire life for “logistical comfort” if your inner world is slowly dying.
One day you’ll feel like “I sold myself to a safe system,” and you’ll resent him—even though it was also your choice.

But don’t romanticize leaving like it will instantly feel “free.”
Some people do feel relief right away.
Some people leave and meet a heavier silence—because at least when he was there, there was still someone in the house.

What I want you to do is separate needs from fears.

• You need care, cooperation, and moments of connection

• You fear you won’t find someone as good, and you fear instability

That fear is what makes people “stay with half a heart,” and the relationship becomes a long, slow torture.

7) Hope that “one day he might change” must become measurable conditions—otherwise it’s just waiting.

You still have a small hope that he’ll change.
But you immediately follow with: “This has been the same problem since the beginning, and he hasn’t changed.”

Here’s the hard truth:

Many people don’t change because of love.
They change because: (1) they see the problem, (2) they want to fix it, (3) they have tools, and (4) they have enough motivation.

So to be fair to yourself, you need a serious “trial project.”
Not just “we talked and I hope he remembers.”

8) The 90-day plan: “restart the marriage” without relying on luck.

Use your strength—you’re good at managing projects.
But this time, manage it with boundaries, and pull him in as a co-founder, not an employee.

Step 1: Have one formal conversation (1–2 hours). Not during a fight.

Rules:

• No blame language

• Use: “I feel / I need / I’m asking for…”

• End with 3–5 concrete agreements

• Set a weekly review day

Example opening that’s clear but not stabbing:

“I know you’re a good person and I see you try in many ways. But right now I feel lonely in this marriage—more like roommates than lovers. I don’t want to let it die slowly. I want us to do a 90-day project to save the relationship. If you don’t want to do it, or if we try and it doesn’t work, then we can make an honest decision about our lives.”

This is serious without being a threat. It signals: this isn’t a 3-day sulk. This is a crossroads.

Step 2: Build a communication system that helps a silent person.

Silent people often collapse when asked “What are you thinking?”

So use a simple structure:

Daily check-in (10 minutes, every day)

• Mood score today 0–10

• Anything weighing on you today?

• What do you want from the other person today? (one thing only)

Weekly meeting (45 minutes, once a week)

• What was good this week

• What’s still stuck

• What one thing should we try next week

• End with scheduling a “date” (yes, it goes in the calendar, not in “inspiration”)

This is the standup meeting of marriage.
It sounds corporate, but it saves marriages because it doesn’t depend on moods.

Step 3: Conflict protocol (to break the “you pursue—he shuts down” loop)

Agree in advance:

If he shuts down, he must say one sentence—minimum requirement:

“I’m overloaded right now. I need 30 minutes. I’ll come back and talk at… (specific time).”

If he disappears without returning, you have the right to treat it as non-cooperation.

If you start pushing with rapid questions, you stop with one sentence:

“Okay, I’m getting overloaded too. I need 15 minutes, then we’ll talk without hurting each other.”

Key condition: you can pause, but you must return.
Pause-without-return = real avoidance.

Step 4: Fix roommate mode by separating space + creating intentional connection

Same room all day = the brain starts seeing each other as “movable furniture.”

Do two things:

• Separate workspaces (different corners or rooms if possible)

• Set “couple time” 20–30 minutes daily with no screens
  Just talk, walk, shower together, cook together—pick one

Closeness doesn’t come from proximity. It comes from intentional interaction.

Step 5: Date nights don’t need to be fancy—but must include “newness.”

Don’t wait for him to become naturally romantic.
You want effort, not talent.

Simple agreement:

• 2 outside dates per month

• 1 at-home activity per week that’s different (movie in a different genre, board game, new recipe, plan a short trip)

• Rotate who chooses
  Not you choosing forever—because you’ll burn out and he won’t grow.

Step 6: Divide housework by “ownership,” not “helping.”

“He helps with housework” sounds good, but it hides: the house is “yours” and he’s assisting.
That automatically makes you the manager (exhausting).

What works:

• Each task has a clear owner

• The owner is responsible for completing it end-to-end, not half and leaving you to finish

• If it’s not fully done, the task isn’t done

Example:

Laundry = he owns the whole pipeline: collect, wash, dry, fold, put away.
Cleaning = the owner must return all equipment to the right place.
Otherwise it’s “dumping the last 10% onto you.”

One more reality-check for you:

You must allow “good enough” standards sometimes—otherwise you’ll silently take it back, and the old loop returns.
You don’t want a perfect house. You want a partner who cooperates.

Step 7: If the 90 days still loop the same, escalate to couples therapy—or decide.

Some couples don’t lack love. They lack tools and a mediator.

9) How do you know whether you “should stop”?

Here are clear, non-dramatic signals:

Signs continuing has real hope

• He acknowledges it’s serious and doesn’t deflect

• He follows agreements consistently for at least 6–8 weeks

• He initiates sometimes, even if he’s not great yet

• You start feeling “I’m not alone,” even if it’s not perfect

• When problems happen, he doesn’t disappear, doesn’t go silent for long, doesn’t leave you suffering alone

Signs it’s time to stop

• He agrees verbally but doesn’t act—and makes no effort to build a system

• He repeatedly goes silent without returning to talk

• You clearly feel “I don’t want to touch him, talk to him, or share my life”

• You’re not just lonely—you’re becoming numb or emotionally disgusted (emotional disgust)

• You keep shrinking yourself so the relationship can survive

That last one is crucial:

If staying means you must stop being yourself, shrink your dreams, pretend you don’t need deeper love—
eventually you’ll lose respect for your own life.

10) The line “I won’t find anyone as good as him” sounds sincere—but it’s also dangerous.

It’s dangerous because it makes you stay from scarcity mindset, not consent.

Good people come in many forms.
And “someone who loves you and is good” doesn’t have to come packaged with “someone who doesn’t communicate and doesn’t initiate.”

You’re bundling everything into one package and saying, “If I lose this package, there will never be another.”

A friend-level blunt truth: you’re not 22.
You’re 32. You have skills, responsibility, goals, discipline.
You’re not someone with “no right to choose.” You’re someone who is afraid to lose what’s familiar.

And another reality-check:

You say, “I’m not thinking about dating anyone new.”
I believe that’s true right now, because you’re exhausted and saturated.
But you shouldn’t choose to stay in a life that doesn’t fit simply because you fear starting over.

You don’t have to leave to find someone new.
You might leave to become alive again.

11) If you choose to stop, stop with a plan—not from collapse.

In real life, divorce is both emotions and paperwork (and you know that—you manage the documents).

Practical checklist:

• How many months of savings do you have if you separate?

• Can your income sustain you if you pay everything alone?

• Where are assets/debts/accounts/important documents?

• If you rent or co-own a home, who stays and who moves?

• Do you have a support system (friends, family, therapist)?

• What ending do you want: immediate divorce / trial separation for 3 months / couples therapy first?

“Stopping with a plan” helps you avoid hating him later.

Because you’ll know you did your best, and you chose with dignity.

12) If you choose to continue, I’m going to ask two honest commitments from you.

Commitment #1: Don’t expect him to become a completely different person.

He may never be the “big surprise” guy, ultra-romantic, or someone who loves deep talks daily.
But he can be trained to meet a minimum: communicate, keep agreements, show care through systems.

You must be clear about what you truly need:

Do you need a partner with ambition equal to yours?
Or do you need cooperation + closeness + consistent care?

Because if your heart needs the first, but you force yourself to accept the second, you’ll suffer and it still won’t be enough.

Commitment #2: Stop measuring love by “he must do it the way I do it.”

You’re good at planning and managing.
He may be good at living in the present—calm, stable, not destructive, not breaking trust.

Some couples survive because they learn:

“We don’t have to be the same—but we do have to invest in each other.”

But if deep down you contempt his style, and deep down he feels he’s never “good enough” with you,
even without drama, the home stays cold.

13) The final questions you should ask yourself (without self-deception)

Answer bluntly. No pretty answer needed:

• If he never changes at all for the next 5 years, do you still want to stay?

• Do you want a “husband,” or a “life teammate”—what exactly does that mean to you?

• Do you love him… or do you love the safety he provides?

• Do you still respect him? (not just feel grateful)

• Do you respect yourself in this relationship?

• Are you exhausted because “he doesn’t do it,” or because “you won’t let go”? (it may be both)

• Can you accept that relationships need maintenance, not just “letting it flow”?

If your answer to question #1 is clearly “no,” but you stay only because you’re afraid—you’re buying time for suffering.

But if your answer to #1 is: “If he cooperates, I still want to try,”
then a serious 90-day plan is the fairest proof for you.

Summary — Friend advice, no hype, with clear-headed support

You’re not “too much.” You’re lacking closeness and cooperation.
He’s not “bad,” but he may lack skills and urgency in maintaining the relationship.
And you may have slipped into the “carry-control-manage” role so deeply that he doesn’t have to grow—and you burn out.

The solution isn’t “endure” or “leave” immediately.

The solution is: if you continue, you must continue in a new way—

with agreements, measurable follow-through, a system, dates, communication rules, and conflict protocols—then give it 90 serious days.

After that, if it still loops the same, you won’t need to ask anyone anymore.
Because you’ll know: this didn’t die because you didn’t try.
It died because you’ve been trying alone for long enough.

---

💓💓💓

married for 7 years, relationship advice, roommate syndrome, emotional distance, demand-withdraw cycle, communication issues, mental load, unequal emotional labor, lifestyle mismatch, self-development vs resting, conflict shutdown, avoidance, couples boundaries, relationship systems, weekly check-in, daily check-in, date planning, shared responsibility, household task ownership, couples therapy, trial separation, divorce planning, financial stability vs emotional stability, burnout, emotional loneliness, compatibility, commitment, rebuilding marriage, 90-day relationship reset, decision criteria, dignity in breakup, intimacy rebuilding, partnership mindset