It Was Never About the Dishes

Some years ago, a then‑unknown man turned to blogging to process the end of his marriage. In a beautifully messy and honest progression, he began by pouring out posts of anger, indignation, and grief. Eventually, those hot and spewing emotions cooled into a bedrock of self-assessment. Reflection replaced rage. Curiosity replaced certainty.

Eventually, he began writing about his own contributions to the marriage’s unraveling and sharing insightful observations about relationships more broadly. One of those reflections went viral under the now‑famous title: “She Divorced Me Because I Left Dishes by the Sink.” That man was Matthew Fray, who later expanded those insights into his book This Is How Your Marriage Ends.

This post isn’t about Matthew Fray. And it’s not really about dishes. It’s about something much more central to loving another person well: caring about what matters to them without abandoning what matters to you.

Two Truths Can Exist at the Same Time

What I appreciate most about Fray’s reflection is his willingness to hold two truths at once.

One truth: it genuinely did not matter to him if a glass was left by the sink.

Another truth: every time it happened, it mattered deeply to his wife. She experienced it as disrespectful and disconnecting.

Rather than trying to prove which truth was “right,” he eventually recognized that both were valid.

This is where many couples get stuck.

So much energy is spent trying to convince the other person that their perspective is the correct one, instead of making room for the discomfort of two lived realities existing side by side. In this case, those two were the inconsequential task of putting the glass in the dishwasher and the meaning behind not contributing to a clean home.

As Fray explains, a glass by the sink was trivial on its own, but it was a little warning light of a much deeper issue of uneven mental load in the relationship.

What Are “Mutual Chores” and the "Mental Load," Really?

Most couples divide the tasks that keep the household running in different ways, and there is no single “right” system—not even one that works forever for the same couple.

What matters most isn’t how these tasks are divided, but whether the division feels chosen, visible, and fair to both people. When that doesn't happen and tasks default to one person without an explicit conversation, resentment sets in. One partner becomes the manager, the tracker, the reminder system. The other becomes the helper. Helpers rarely feel like partners. And Managers rarely feel like partners. Both end up losing the support of the other.

Mutual chores are household tasks that:

• Benefit everyone in the home

• Require ongoing attention

• Are easy to overlook but costly when ignored

They are not favors. They are not “helping.” They are part of maintaining a shared life.

Fairly divided does not mean equally divided. One partner may work longer hours. Another may manage more childcare. Fairness takes context into account. What matters is mutual agreement and the ability to revisit the arrangement as needed (without a fight).

Agreeing to take on a mutual chore is also not a lifetime sentence. Needs change. Energy changes. Life changes. Rotating responsibilities can prevent burnout and resentment from quietly setting up shop.

And just to be clear: There are some chores that no one enjoys. No one is more "talented" at cleaning or taking out the trash. Share the load and change it up so everyone takes a turn.

What Sharing the Mental Load Actually Looks Like

Healthy sharing of mutual chores tends to include:

• Shared responsibility: These tasks aren't one person's job but everyone's responsibility to contribute to. Since these tasks maintain the home for all residents, doing them isn't "helping" someone else, but contributing to the shared living space.

• Intentional planning: Instead of falling into traditional gender roles, couples actively decide who does what, or tag-team tasks.

• Show of respect: Equally sharing these tasks demonstrates that you value your partner's time and effort, fostering stronger bonds.

• Teamwork: Working together on chores can become a way to connect, talk, and show commitment, improving relationship satisfaction.

Common Mutual Chores

• Cooking, meal planning, and grocery shopping

• Washing dishes, cleaning, and taking out the trash

• Laundry and folding clothes

• Yard work and pet care

• Childcare (feeding, bathing, homework, transportation)

• Paying bills, errands, scheduling, and vacation planning

So If It's Not About the Dishes, Why Do People Complain About the Dishes?

When a spouse is resentful about feeling left on their own to do all of the chores or manage the mental load, it's rarely about the tasks themselves. It's not about whether you did the dishes or took out the trash or made sure to not leave your stuff out on the counter they just cleaned. Over time, imbalances in the mental load and mutual chores don't just create conflict and fatigue; they create a deep sense of loneliness.

If high blood pressure is the silent killer of the body, resentment is the silent killer of relationships.

It builds slowly, often unnoticed, until everything feels tense and brittle. That’s why it’s worth checking your relationship’s blood pressure regularly. Check in with your partner. Ask what's been heavy for them lately. Let them know you see them and you care.

Humans are biologically wired for connection, not just emotionally, but at the level of our nervous systems and physiology. From infancy, our brains develop in relationship to other people. Mirror neurons allow us to intuitively sense and reflect the emotional states of those around us, helping us understand another person’s intentions, feelings, and pain without words. Our bodies also register one another more subtly—through tone of voice, facial micro-expressions, posture, and even the electromagnetic fields generated by the heart and nervous system. Long before we consciously interpret what is happening, our bodies are already responding to whether another person feels safe, attentive, or withdrawn.

Connection is also how our nervous systems learn to settle. Through co-regulation, one person’s calm presence helps soothe another’s heightened stress response. A steady voice, warm eye contact, or gentle touch can slow heart rate, reduce cortisol, and bring the body out of fight-or-flight. Over time, repeated experiences of being soothed by someone else help us develop self-regulation. In healthy adult relationships, partners continue to serve this role for one another, acting as emotional anchors during stress, grief, or overwhelm. This is not weakness; it is how human nervous systems are designed to function.

When connection is lost in a marriage, the pain goes far deeper than feeling misunderstood or disconnected. It creates a form of loneliness that is uniquely destabilizing. You are not alone in the world, yet the person who is supposed to be your primary source of safety, comfort, and attunement feels unavailable or distant. This kind of loneliness activates an existential fear of abandonment—If the person who knows me best is no longer with me, am I truly safe? Am I worthy of love? Do I matter? The nervous system experiences this rupture as threat, not just disappointment. That is why marital disconnection can feel terrifying, disorienting, and deeply painful—not because of the conflict itself, but because it threatens our most basic biological need: to belong, to be seen, and to be held in another’s awareness.

Protecting What Really Matters

At its core, this is why the small, everyday moments matter so much. Mutual chores are not about efficiency or fairness on a spreadsheet, they are about communicating your presence and care. They are ways we say, often without words, “I see you, I care about what weighs on you, and I’m in this with you.” When couples are able to get unstuck by allowing for two truths and eliminating blame, they can work towards sharing the mental load with intention, and repair disconnection with humility and curiosity. This lets them co-create something far more important than a clean kitchen. They protect the sense of safety and belonging that allows love to endure.