The Gift of Being Needed

Two are better than one… For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.

(Eccl. 4:9–10)

Dearest Daughters,

Today I want to branch out a little and talk about a question I have puzzled over many times: What is it, broadly speaking, that attracts a man to a woman? What does he love? What does he find so intriguing, so compelling, that he chooses a woman as a partner for life?

I’ve often wondered why one woman never married, while another seemed almost effortlessly beloved. Of course, there are many reasons. Some women do not desire marriage or are called to other forms of service. Then there are the obvious things most people find appealing—physical beauty, kindness, intelligence, charm, affection. And yet there must be something more, because I have seen men drawn to women and to qualities that I personally might not have found particularly appealing at first glance. And I know that most women are not naturally drawn to those same traits either.

Over the years, I’ve talked about this with your father, and more recently with your uncle Asi as well. Many of the thoughts I’m sharing today come from those conversations, and I give them credit for the insight, if I’ve understood and communicated it accurately.

Your uncle pointed out something simple but profound: both men and women have strengths and weaknesses intrinsic to their gender, and what draws them to one another is often the way those strengths and weaknesses fit together. Where a man is strong, a woman may be weak; where a woman is strong, a man may be weak. That is where harmony and complementarity are born.

In general, a man is not looking for a woman who is weak and fragile in every way. Nor is he looking for a woman who is strong in all the same ways he is strong. A teenage boy once said something that greatly intrigued me: “Someday, I want to marry a girl who’s afraid of spiders.”

I remember thinking how curious that was. As a teenage girl, I never would have said, “I want to marry a man who’s afraid of spiders.” In fact, I probably would have rolled my eyes at such a thing (as would every young lady I know). And yet, to this young man, there was something deeply appealing about a girl who might call for him when she sees one.

So what is that?

Let’s talk first about women’s strengths.

I can speak from my own experience, and from the admiration your father showed over the years. When I was hurt, overwhelmed, or weeping, he was always there—an arm around me, a shoulder to cry on. But what he admired most was not my tears. It was that I picked myself up again.

He praised my resilience. He loved it when I gathered myself, washed my face, made dinner with a cheerful spirit, tucked my children into bed without letting them know I’d been crying, and met the next day with courage even when my heart was aching.

“You’ll always be a mama,” he would say. “No matter what storms come, no matter how tired, no matter who’s hurt you—you get up, make breakfast, wash faces, and teach school. That’s what makes you my wonderful girl.”

He admired constancy. Even after nights when the baby screamed and I had the flu, he loved that I could still admire and laugh at the ornery toddler, cooing to the baby, talking about how wonderful they were, delighting in them. That strength to nurture, that I have often marveled is even present in the midst of exhaustion. I actually believe this is a special grace given to mothers.

Your father also admired my desire to make things beautiful. I couldn’t even set up a campsite without arranging it to feel homey—turning stumps into chairs, laying out a tablecloth, lighting candles, making a place feel welcoming. He noticed that I never went a day without combing my hair, ironing my clothes, tying a little scarf around my neck, making myself feminine for him. He saw that as a gift.

Now, women also have weaknesses. But some of these, men also often find endearing.

Your father and uncle mentioned the wife who stands on a chair because of a mouse, who is afraid of heights and wants someone’s hand, who cries when a cake doesn’t turn out just right for a special birthday. A man likes holding the door open for his wife. He enjoys carrying the heavy packages in from the car. He likes being the one to climb the ladder first so she can follow, not because she’s incapable, but because she trusts him. He appreciates being needed.

Let’s face it, men are generally less afraid of ladders, stronger at carrying luggage, quicker to dig a hole. They are often less prone to fear, self-pity, and indecision. But they are also often less attentive to beauty, to matching clothing, and to the daily work of making a home feel loved and welcoming. And so they love being appreciated for their strengths and understood in their weaknesses, just as women do.

Where things tend to go wrong is when a woman presents herself as all strength. She never needs help. She insists on carrying everything herself. She climbs the ladder alone, hauls in the heavy bags, and makes sure everyone knows she’s just as capable as any man. She trusts only her own opinions, believes her own fears, and embraces her own suspicions.

She may keep an immaculate house, but sigh loudly over every left-out sock. She may be efficient and competent, but corrects constantly. She presents herself as flawless, and in doing so, she can come across as ungrateful, unteachable, or quietly judging. That will often send a man running.

On the other hand, when a woman embodies only weakness, she can feel clingy and overwhelming. Every small illness becomes dramatic. Tears slip easily into self-pity. Fear runs unchecked, like a freight train, flattening peace in the home. She needs constant reassurance, constant rescue, constant attention. That, too, is not appealing in a partner relationship.

What I find so instructive in all of this is how it invites us to look honestly at ourselves.

What are my strengths? What are my weaknesses?

When we own both without shame, we allow our marriages to become strong in the very places where we ourselves are not. If I am oversensitive, I don’t need to complain that my husband isn’t sensitive enough. I can be grateful that he can overlook an offense and let it roll off his back like water on a duck.

If I have a tendency to fear, I can recognize that this sensitivity helps me notice my children’s needs, but also acknowledge that fear can run away with me, and respectfully listen when my husband says there is nothing to worry about.

If I have a gift for beauty and order, I can serve it gladly, without resenting the misplaced tool or forgotten sock, and without allowing vanity to rule my life. This is my strength, my contribution, my way of filling in the gaps.

As we learn to embrace both our strengths and our weaknesses, and to receive those same qualities in our spouse, it is much like learning to walk. Think of your strengths and weaknesses as your right and left leg. No one can hop on one leg for very long. We move forward by placing one foot, then the other: strength, then weakness; strength, then weakness. This rhythm is what gives the body balance, and so it is with life and marriage.

A woman’s strengths are often what first physically attracts a man, while her vulnerability awakens his God-given masculine desire to protect, provide, and stand firm. But when we live only from our weakness or only from our strength, we lose the rhythm. Balance disappears. And instead of drawing one another closer, we begin to push away, like magnets facing the wrong direction.

It is in both genders owning both their strengths and their weakness, and allowing them to work together, that we become a true team. And it is there, in humility, balance, and harmony, that a marriage grows strong.

May your marriages become beautiful and strong in the complementarity of masculine and feminine strengths and weaknesses working together in harmony, in peace.

With love,

Mom