Planning a vacation? Cleaning for Passover together? Here’s how to do it right

What turns a couple’s vacation into a perfect experience, and what can make it feel disappointing even when all the ideal conditions are met? David and Chani went on two similar getaways but returned with starkly different feelings—one left them with a sense of missed opportunity, while the other was nearly flawless. What really happened there? During one of my sessions with David and Chani, they pleaded, “You have to help us understand. We recently came back from a joint vacation, and we want to dig deeper into something.”

Let’s start from the beginning. About six months ago, they took a three-day trip to a cabin, planning everything meticulously—Chani even took time off work. But two hours before departure, an inexplicable spat erupted into a heated argument. David admitted, “I don’t have a clear explanation for why it happened—it just shouldn’t have.” Though they often face minor friction, it rarely escalates to such distance. They left with sour faces, but after a few hours, they shook it off and enjoyed the rest. On the drive back, they agreed it was fun, yet something felt incomplete—not just because of the initial fight.

Contrast that with their trip last week, which felt entirely different. They booked it two months earlier after spotting a great deal. As the date neared, Chani’s boss denied her time off due to a work crunch. David intervened, explaining to the boss that the trip was long-planned, and she relented—on the condition Chani work remotely for two hours daily. They decided not to let it ruin their plans. The drive was smooth, and they scheduled Chani’s work from noon to 2 p.m. each day. While she worked, David studied at a nearby synagogue, chatted with the cabin owner, or called a friend. Afterward, they resumed their time together, making the three days feel seamless. On the way home, they marveled at how perfect it was—free, connected, and reluctant to let it end.

Chani wondered, “Why did we feel unsatisfied last time, but now we’re so content?” David suggested it was about expectations: disappointment with her boss lowered their hopes, making the trip a pleasant surprise. But Chani sensed something deeper. I stepped in: “Let me offer a thought about what changed, with a brief preface.”

“Every person has basic needs—physical and emotional—like food, water, sleep, security, and stability. Alongside these are two others: the need to be together and the need to be alone. These opposing needs coexist in us all. In marriage, this creates a constant balancing act: the biblical ‘cling to his wife and become one flesh’ versus the need for personal space. Daily life often balances these naturally—commutes or work hours provide alone time. But in exceptional situations like a vacation, the ‘together’ intensifies, and the need for ‘alone’ seeks equilibrium. Without it, we might feel stifled, yet it’s hard to say, ‘I need space’ without implying rejection.”

“In your first trip, that imbalance sparked tension, leading to an unconscious fix: the fight. It seemed random, but it restored space—together yet apart. In the second trip, Chani’s work hours built in that ‘alone’ time deliberately, making your ‘together’ authentic and unthreatening.” This dynamic can hit any couple—during intense Passover cleaning, parental leave, or holidays—when ‘together’ dominates without room for ‘alone.’ Unspoken, it may erupt as fights. Recognizing both needs as valid, identifying personal space activities, and structuring balance—like ten minutes apart per two hours together—can keep the peace and strengthen the bond.

The author is a couples counsellor. This article was contributed by Kikar Shabbat.