I was 32 when I realized my parents didn’t actually like each other.
We were at dinner—me, my roommate at the time, my parents—and my dad made a joke. My mom gave him this look. Cold. The kind of look you give someone you can barely tolerate.
And my roommate noticed. Later, in the car, he said: “Are they always like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like they hate each other.”
And I didn’t know how to answer. Because to me, that was just what marriage looked like. You stayed. You endured. You made it work. That’s what my parents did. That’s what commitment meant.
My parents stayed together for us. They literally said it out loud. “We’re doing this for you kids.” Like it was noble. Like we should be grateful.
And maybe we should have been. But here’s what they didn’t say: staying in a miserable marriage doesn’t just affect the two people in it. It teaches the kids what relationships are supposed to look like. What love is. What you’re supposed to tolerate. What commitment means.
And those lessons? They’re hard to unlearn.
Here are the relationship beliefs that people whose parents stayed together for the kids often struggle with.
1. Love Means Suffering Through Unhappiness

The model they saw was two people who clearly didn’t want to be together but stayed anyway. And that was called love.
As a result, they learned: real love means enduring misery. Choosing someone even when you don’t want to be with them anymore. Staying even when you’re unhappy.
Relationships that feel easy or joyful must be shallow. If you’re not suffering, you’re not really committed.
Because happiness wasn’t part of the equation for their parents. Endurance was. And endurance was praised as the highest form of love.
2. Leaving Is Selfish, Staying Is Noble
Everyone praised their parents for staying. “At least they didn’t give up.” “At least they put the kids first.” “At least they tried.”
Leaving was presented as the selfish choice. The easy way out. The failure.
Research on children of “stayed together” marriages found that these individuals often internalize the belief that relationship dissolution represents personal failure rather than incompatibility, leading to prolonged stays in unsatisfying partnerships.
Even when they’re in relationships that aren’t working, they stay. Because staying feels brave. Even when it’s making everyone miserable.
What ends up happening is that they mistake suffering through something for being virtuous. And they punish themselves for wanting more.
3. Being Unhappy Means They Need To Put In More Effort
Something’s wrong in the relationship. They’re not happy. Things don’t feel right.
And their first thought is: I’m not trying hard enough.
They read books. Go to therapy. Make lists of things to improve. Anything to avoid the possibility that maybe this relationship just isn’t right.
Because the message they got growing up was that relationships are problems to be solved through sheer determination. Not partnerships that should feel good.
If their parents could make it work through pure willpower, they should be able to, too.
4. Separate Lives Under One Roof Is Just What Happens

Roommates who happen to be married. That’s what their parents were.
Separate schedules. Separate interests. Separate bedrooms, sometimes. They occupied the same house but had completely different lives.
And that was just normal. What happened after you’d been together long enough.
Research on relationship modeling in childhood shows that children who observe emotionally distant parental relationships often normalize disconnection in their own partnerships, viewing intimacy as temporary rather than sustainable.
So when their own relationships start feeling distant, they don’t see it as a problem. They see it as maturity. As what happens when the honeymoon phase ends.
They think connection isn’t supposed to last. Intimacy has an expiration date. To them, that’s just how it goes.
5. Silence Is How Adults Handle Disagreement
A fight breaks out. Or rather, it doesn’t.
Because this is the lesson that stuck: mature adults don’t fight. They withdraw. They punish with silence. They freeze each other out until someone gives in or everyone just forgets what started it.
Days of silence. Weeks, sometimes. Tension so thick you could feel it from another room. But no actual conversation about what was wrong.
That was conflict resolution in their house. And now they do the same thing. Someone’s upset, and instead of talking about it, they go quiet. For days.
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6. Affection And Warmth Eventually Disappear
There was no touching in their house. No kissing. No affection in front of the kids.
Maybe it happened once. But by the time they were old enough to notice, that was gone.
Research on attachment patterns found that children who don’t witness parental affection often struggle to initiate or maintain physical intimacy in their own adult relationships, viewing it as performative rather than natural.
Affection is for new relationships. Real marriages—the ones that last—are cold. Functional. Devoid of warmth.
And now they’re in relationships where they love their partner but can’t remember the last time they held hands. Kissed without it leading somewhere. Showed affection just because.
7. How Their Relationship Looks Matters More Than How It Feels

Growing up, their parents’ marriage looked fine from the outside. Family photos. Holiday cards. Showing up to events together.
The performance was an A plus. It was only inside the house that you could see the cracks.
That’s why they believe that what matters is how your relationship appears to other people. Not how it actually feels to live in it.
They post couple photos on social media while barely speaking at home. They attend events together while resenting each other. They maintain the image of a happy relationship while feeling completely disconnected.
Admitting the relationship isn’t working feels like admitting failure. And as long as it looks good from the outside, they can tell themselves it’s fine. They eventually exhaust themselves maintaining an image that has nothing to do with how they actually feel.
8. Asking For More Makes Them Ungrateful
Anytime they complained about the tension, the coldness, the obvious unhappiness growing up, they were told: “At least we stayed.” “At least we didn’t leave you.” “Be grateful.”
Wanting more is ungrateful. Expecting happiness is entitled. You should be thankful for what you have, even when it’s making you miserable.
And now, in their own relationships, they feel guilty for wanting more. For wishing their partner were kinder, more present, more engaged.
They think wanting a relationship that feels good means they’re asking for too much.
Because their parents stayed. And that should have been enough.
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