You, Me, and Us

In a recent therapy session, I realized that my constant busyness might actually be a way of filling the void created by my loneliness. I’ve noticed a pattern in how I react when I feel frustrated or irritated with my partner, it often leads me to immerse myself even more in work or tasks.

My loneliness stems from the emotional gap between what I need and what my husband can offer. When I want to vent about my day, he tends to shift into problem-solving mode. His logic is, “If your day isn’t broken, then there’s nothing to fix, so why talk about it?” But for me, those moments aren’t about fixing anything; they’re about feeling heard. Sometimes, I just need someone to say “yes,” “uh-huh,” or “that sucks,” without trying to analyze the root cause of what I’m saying.

What I need from my husband is warmth, alliance, and a safe place to rest my soul. It’s been quite a journey learning to navigate our missed connections and unique communication patterns as I come to understand more about my autistic husband’s quirks. Over time, I’ve started to see the beauty in our balance. Family and friends often tell me they now understand why we work so well together, one of us is calm, and the other is cool. Can you guess which one I am?

As a Hmong wife, I’ve also recognized that acts of service often serve as a form of love language for us. Even if it’s not our primary love language, it runs parallel to it—showing love through caring actions and service to our family.

I also want to encourage other Hmong wives who have autistic spouses: one of the greatest acts of service you can give yourself is the gift of peace and silence. Maybe you don’t want to leave your spouse, and you don’t have to, but you do need moments of stillness. Time to sit with yourself, not to fix anything, but simply to enjoy your own presence in the quiet.

I’m learning that love doesn’t always show up in the way we expect it to. Sometimes, it’s not found in deep conversations or emotional exchanges, but in the quiet understanding that two people can coexist and grow differently, yet together. Healing for me means honoring my needs without resentment, loving my husband for who he is, and giving myself permission to pause, breathe, and just be.