One of the things I have learned early in marriage is that not every disagreement is worth fighting over. Some things, no matter how irritating they seem in the moment, are really too small to waste energy on. Choosing battles wisely is not about being weak. It is about protecting the peace of the relationship and focusing only on what truly matters.
As a husband, I grew up with the idea that men should be the stronger ones, the ones who swallow pride and lead in reconciliation. At first, I thought this would be hard. But with Chin, I realized that it is not difficult to humble myself when love is the reason. I learned that saying sorry first does not make me less of a man. It makes me more of a husband. And the beautiful thing is that Chin also makes it a point to say sorry whenever she feels she is at fault. That balance, that humility on both sides, makes our marriage stronger.
Small Disagreements That Can Become Big
Every marriage has disagreements. Some are about small, everyday things. Some are about bigger issues. In our Filipino setting, small disagreements can come from things like chores, spending, food choices, or even visiting relatives.
There was a time when I came home late without texting her. I had been caught up with friends and lost track of time. When I got home, Chin was quiet and obviously upset. Instead of immediately defending myself, I just sat with her. She eventually told me she felt disrespected that I did not inform her. I apologized sincerely, not with excuses, but with acknowledgment. I told her I understood her feelings and that I would make sure to be more mindful next time.
Another time, it was Chin’s turn. She bought something online that was not really part of our budget. I did not get angry, but I teased her about it. Later on, she came to me and said sorry because she realized she had overspent. That apology meant so much to me because it showed she cared about our financial teamwork.
These small things, if left unchecked, can pile up and create resentment. But because we both practice humility and apologies, they do not grow into bigger issues. We let most things go, choosing only to address what is truly important.
The Power of Sorry
Saying sorry in marriage is not just about words. It is about sincerity. A forced sorry does not heal. But a real sorry, one that comes from humility and love, is powerful.
When I say sorry to Chin, I make sure it is not just to stop the argument. I make sure it is because I truly recognize what I did wrong. And when she says sorry to me, I feel her sincerity too. That honesty makes forgiveness easier.
In our Filipino culture, sometimes couples joke about saying sorry just to end a fight. Some even say, “Ikaw na lang mag sorry para tapos na.” But if the sorry is empty, the wound stays. What I appreciate in our marriage is that our apologies are not like that. We mean what we say. And we try hard not to repeat the same mistakes again.
Of course, we are not perfect. Sometimes the same issues come back. But each apology reminds us of our commitment to grow. It reminds us that we are not opponents, we are partners.
Letting Go of Pride
One of the hardest things in any marriage is letting go of pride. Pride whispers, “Do not say sorry, you are right.” Pride insists that the other person should make the first move. But pride has no place in a loving marriage.
I remember a Sunday afternoon when we argued about something small, I think it was about chores. We ended up not talking for a few hours. The silence was heavy. Then I realized, why waste a whole afternoon of togetherness over something so petty? I stood up, went to her, and said sorry even if I still felt I had a point. She smiled, hugged me, and said sorry too. That hug meant more than winning the argument.
It made me reflect that in marriage, it is better to win each other’s heart than to win the fight. Pride may win arguments, but humility wins love.
It's like remembering the story of Malakas at Maganda (the strong one and the beautiful one), the first man and woman in Filipino mythology. Even though they were both strong and independent, they had to learn to work together and to humble themselves before each other in order to build a life together. In our marriage, we've learned that same lesson: strength lies not in dominance, but in humility.
That Sunday afternoon silence felt like an eternity. The init ng ulo (heat of anger) was simmering, and my pride was whispering all sorts of things: "She should apologize first! You were right! Don't back down!" But then I thought about my Lolo (grandfather), who always said, "Ang pagpapakumbaba ay hindi kahinaan, kundi kalakasan" (Humility is not weakness, but strength).
So, I swallowed my pride, walked over to Chin, and said, "Pasensya na, mahal (I'm sorry, love)." The relief on her face was immediate. And when she hugged me back and whispered, "Ako rin, pasensya na (Me too, I'm sorry)," I knew I had made the right decision. The warmth of her embrace was a far greater reward than any victory in an argument.
We've learned that in Filipino culture, where pakikipagkapwa-tao (harmonious relationships with others) is so important, letting go of pride is essential for maintaining strong connections. Holding onto anger and resentment can poison relationships and create lasting damage. But humility, forgiveness, and a willingness to apologize can heal wounds and strengthen bonds.
It's also about recognizing that in marriage, you're not just an individual; you're part of a team. And like any good team, you have to be willing to put the needs of the team above your own ego. Sometimes that means swallowing your pride, admitting you were wrong, and offering a sincere apology.
Now, whenever we feel our pride getting in the way, we remind each other of that Sunday afternoon. We remember the weight of the silence and the joy of reconciliation. And we choose humility over pride, knowing that it's always better to win each other's hearts than to win the fight. It's about understanding that ang tunay na pagmamahal ay marunong magpatawad (true love knows how to forgive), and that letting go of pride is the first step towards forgiveness and lasting happiness.
Choosing Which Battles to Fight
Not every issue needs to become a battle. Sometimes it is wiser to let things slide. For example, if Chin forgets to put something back in place or if she cooks food that turns out too salty, why would I turn that into a fight? Those things are too small to matter. I would rather just eat and laugh about it.
Of course, there are important issues that cannot be ignored, like finances, respect, or trust. Those need to be addressed. But even then, the way we address them matters. We talk calmly, we listen, and we make sure the focus is on solving the problem, not attacking each other.
Choosing battles is really about choosing peace. It is about deciding which issues deserve energy and which ones do not. And in the Filipino setting, where families are often noisy and full of opinions, sometimes it also means choosing not to be affected by outside comments. People may tease me about being under the saya, but instead of making it an issue, I laugh it off. I know the truth of our marriage, and that is what matters.
It's like navigating the palengke (market) – you can't haggle over every single singkamas (jicama). You have to pick your battles, focusing on the items that really matter and letting go of the small stuff. In our marriage, we've learned that some things are just not worth the emotional energy.
For instance, Chin is a master of tawad (bargaining) at the palengke, but she has a tendency to leave her shoes scattered around the house. Is it annoying? Sometimes. But is it worth starting a fight over? Absolutely not. I'd rather just quietly put them away and save my energy for more important issues, like discussing our long-term financial goals.
And then there was the time she accidentally used patis (fish sauce) instead of soy sauce in my adobo. The result was...interesting, to say the least. But instead of complaining, I just added a little sugar and pretended it was a new, experimental recipe. We both laughed about it, and now it's a running joke in our family.
Of course, there are times when we have to address more serious issues. Finances, for example, are a non-negotiable. We make sure to have regular usapan (discussions) about our budget, our savings, and our investments. We approach these conversations with honesty, transparency, and a willingness to compromise. The goal is not to win or to be right, but to find solutions that work for both of us.
And like you said, in the Filipino setting, you also have to learn to tune out the noise from outside. Everyone has an opinion about your marriage – your parents, your siblings, your titos and titas (aunts and uncles), even your manang (maid)! They may tease you, criticize you, or offer unsolicited advice. But it's important to remember that your marriage is your own. You and your spouse are the only ones who truly know what's best for your relationship.
So, when my tito jokingly calls me under the saya during a family gathering, I just smile and say, "Happy wife, happy life, Tito!" It's a way of acknowledging the comment without letting it affect me. I know that Chin and I have a strong and equal partnership, and that's all that matters.
Ultimately, choosing battles is about prioritizing peace, protecting your energy, and focusing on what truly matters in your marriage. It's about learning to let go of the small stuff and reserving your energy for the big stuff. And in the Filipino setting, it's also about learning to navigate the opinions and expectations of your extended family with grace and humor. It's about remembering that ang importante ay kung ano ang nasa puso ninyong dalawa (what's important is what's in your hearts), not what other people think.
Family Gatherings and Disagreements
In-laws and extended family can sometimes be sources of small tensions. Maybe it is about who to visit during Christmas, or who pays for what during a handaan, or who gets to sing next in videoke. These things can spark disagreements if not handled carefully.
Chin and I learned to talk privately before making decisions. If someone asks us about plans, we look at each other first, and we answer as a team. That way, no one feels left out. And if we do not agree, we save the discussion for later, away from the crowd. That small habit of unity prevents bigger arguments in front of family.
It's like navigating a barangay fiesta – so much joy, so much food, so many people, but also so much potential for chaos! Filipino family gatherings are wonderful, but they can also be a breeding ground for minor disagreements, especially when it comes to traditions, expectations, and, of course, the videoke.
We quickly realized that the key to surviving, and even thriving, in these situations was to present a united front. Before any major family event, we have a quick usapan (conversation) about our priorities and boundaries. Who are we visiting first? How much are we comfortable spending on gifts? Are we willing to sing My Way on the videoke (the answer is always a firm no!).
That way, when Ate Vee asks, "So, when are you visiting us in Laguna?", we can exchange a quick glance and respond in unison, "We're still figuring out the schedule, Teh, but we'll definitely make time to see you!" It's a polite way of deflecting the pressure and ensuring that we're both on the same page.
And if a disagreement does arise, we've learned to table it for later. There's no point in arguing about sino ang mas magaling kumanta (who's the better singer) in front of the whole family. Instead, we'll wait until we're alone and have a calm and rational discussion about it. Usually, it ends with us laughing about how seriously everyone takes the videoke.
We also try to be mindful of each other's sensitivities. Chin knows that I get overwhelmed easily in large crowds, so she'll often check in on me and make sure I'm not feeling too stressed. I, in turn, know that she loves to sing, so I'll encourage her to take the videoke microphone, even if I'm secretly cringing inside.
Ultimately, navigating Filipino family gatherings is about balancing our individual needs with the expectations of our loved ones. It's about presenting a united front, communicating effectively, and remembering that the goal is to celebrate together, not to compete or create drama. And just like a well-organized barangay fiesta, a little planning and teamwork can go a long way in ensuring that everyone has a good time. It's about showing paggalang (respect) and maintaining kapayapaan (peace), even when things get a little chaotic.
Learning to Laugh It Off
Another strategy we use is laughter. Sometimes, instead of letting irritation grow, we turn it into a joke. For example, if I forget to buy something she asked for, I exaggerate by kneeling and saying, “Forgive me, my queen.” She cannot help but laugh, and the tension disappears.
Other times, if she feels annoyed at me, she teases me instead of snapping. She might say, “Ang galing mo talaga, kahit kalat mo parang art installation.” I laugh and clean up without feeling attacked.
Humor is like oil that keeps the marriage machine running smoothly. It makes it easier to let go of small irritations.
It's like the Filipino biruan (teasing) that's so common in our families. We tease each other relentlessly, but it's always done with affection and a playful spirit. It's a way of showing affection and building camaraderie, even when we're pointing out each other's flaws. That same spirit of biruan helps us navigate the little irritations of married life.
There was this one time when I accidentally shrunk her favorite terno (traditional Filipino dress) in the wash. I was mortified! I thought she was going to explode. But instead of yelling, she just looked at the shrunken dress, then at me, and said with a perfectly straight face, "Well, now it's a terno for our future anak (child)!" I burst out laughing, and the tension completely evaporated. We spent the rest of the evening joking about our future child's impeccable fashion sense.
Chin also has a knack for turning my pagiging makulit (being persistent/annoying) into a source of amusement. If I keep asking her the same question over and over, she'll just start singing a silly song about it, complete with exaggerated hand gestures. It's so ridiculous that I can't help but laugh at myself, and I immediately drop the subject.
We've learned that laughter is a powerful tool for defusing conflict and strengthening our connection. It reminds us not to take ourselves too seriously and to find joy in the everyday moments. It's a way of saying, "Hey, we're in this together, and even when things get tough, we can still find something to smile about." And just like a good Filipino fiesta, laughter brings us closer together and makes the journey of marriage a whole lot more fun. It's the pampalasa (flavor) that makes even the simplest moments taste sweeter.
Apologies as Teaching Moments
One thing I also learned is that apologies are not only about the moment. They are also about growth. Each time I say sorry, I remind myself to be better. Each time Chin says sorry, I know she is also trying to improve.
For example, after our argument about me coming home late without texting, I made it a personal rule to always send updates. It became a habit not because I feared her reaction but because I respected her feelings. That is the beauty of apologies. They create change when they are real.
It's like when our lola (grandmother) would scold us for being pasaway (naughty) as kids. It wasn't just about the palo (spanking, though thankfully, we didn't get too many of those!). It was about learning a lesson, about understanding why our actions were wrong, and about striving to be better children. Apologies in marriage are similar; they're not just about saying "sorry," but about acknowledging the hurt we've caused and committing to do better in the future.
That incident with me coming home late became a turning point. It wasn't just about texting; it was about respecting Chin's peace of mind. I realized that my actions had consequences, and that my responsibility as a husband was to be mindful of her feelings. Now, before I even leave the office, I send her a quick message: "On my way home, traffic grabe (terrible)!" It's a small gesture, but it shows her that I'm thinking of her and that I value her peace of mind.
Chin, in turn, has also used apologies as teaching moments. There was a time when I felt like she was being too critical of my cooking (I'm still learning!). After I expressed my hurt, she apologized not for giving feedback, but for the way she delivered it. She realized that her words, even if well-intentioned, could be discouraging. Now, she's more mindful of her tone and offers constructive criticism with a lot of encouragement.
We've learned that apologies are not about perfection; they're about progress. We're not always going to get it right, but we're committed to learning from our mistakes and to growing together. It's about creating a culture of honesty, vulnerability, and mutual respect in our marriage. It's about striving to be better partners, not just for each other, but for ourselves. And like any good lesson learned from lola, these apologies stay with us, shaping us into more compassionate and loving individuals. They are the aral (lesson) that strengthens our relationship, one "sorry" at a time.
Marriage is Not a Competition
Sometimes people think marriage is a competition, like who is right more often, who gives more, or who wins arguments. But for us, we remind ourselves that marriage is not about competing, it is about completing each other.
When I say sorry first, it is not about losing. It is about choosing love. When she says sorry too, it is not about surrender. It is about valuing peace. Together, we create balance.
It's like the bayanihan, that beautiful Filipino tradition where everyone works together to move a house. No one is competing to be the strongest or the smartest; everyone is contributing their unique skills and strength to achieve a common goal. That's how we see our marriage. We each have our strengths and weaknesses, our own unique perspectives and talents. The goal isn't to outshine each other but to lift each other up, to support each other, and to work together to build a strong and loving home.
We often joke that I'm the kusinero (cook) and she's the tagalinis (cleaner). But it's not about who does more or who has the better job. It's about recognizing each other's contributions and appreciating the effort that goes into making our home a comfortable and happy place. When I'm tired from a long day at work, she'll often have a warm sabaw (soup) waiting for me. And when she's overwhelmed with household chores, I'll offer to do the dishes or help with the laundry. It's about seeing each other's needs and responding with kindness and generosity.
We also try to remember that disagreements are inevitable, but they don't have to be destructive. When we argue, we try to focus on finding a solution, rather than on proving who is right or wrong. We remind ourselves that we are on the same team, working towards the same goal: a happy and fulfilling life together. We try to listen to each other's perspectives, even when we disagree, and to find common ground. It's about being mapagpasensya (patient) and maunawain (understanding), even when it's difficult.
Ultimately, our marriage is not about winning or losing. It's about building a partnership based on love, respect, and mutual support. It's about creating a home where we can both thrive, where we can both be ourselves, and where we can both feel loved and appreciated. It's about completing each other, not competing with each other, and facing the challenges of life together, as a team. And like any good bayanihan, we know that the load is always lighter when we share it.
Reflection
At the end of the day, choosing battles and letting most go has saved our marriage from unnecessary stress. We could have wasted energy fighting over small things, but instead we choose peace. We could have let pride win, but instead we choose love.
Saying sorry, both as a husband and a wife, is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength, humility, and maturity. And in our Filipino setting, where pride can often be mistaken for strength, we show that real strength is in the ability to bend, to forgive, and to grow together.
As we continue this journey, I know more disagreements will come. But I also know that as long as we keep choosing battles wisely, as long as we keep saying sorry sincerely, and as long as we let go of pride, our marriage will remain strong.
Because at the end of the day, it is not about who is right or wrong. It is about who is willing to love more.
ns216.73.216.174da2