Respect and Honor
The Carelessness Nobody Plans For
Nobody walks down the aisle planning to disrespect their spouse. Almost no one in a first marriage is cruel on purpose. What actually erodes respect, in nearly every case, isn't cruelty — it's carelessness. It's the small, almost automatic things that never get a second thought: what you say about your spouse when they're not in the room, the tone you use in front of other people, the eye-roll that stands in for a sentence you didn't want to say out loud, the joke you've told so many times it stopped feeling like a choice.
Here's the thing about respect: it's rarely tested in the big moments. Anyone can be gracious during a proposal, a wedding toast, an anniversary dinner. Respect gets tested in the thousand small moments nobody's watching — or worse, in the moments other people are watching, and you don't even register that you just made a choice at all.
And there's a reason this is so easy to miss. Familiarity has a strange, almost backward side effect. The person you know best in the entire world is also the person you're most likely to stop being careful with. You'd never check your phone while your boss was mid-sentence. You'd never roll your eyes at a coworker telling a story. But your spouse gets the tired version of you, the distracted version, the version that quietly assumes they'll still be there tomorrow no matter how today went — so why bother being careful right now? That assumption is exactly the problem. Closeness was never supposed to earn you the right to be careless. If anything, it raises the stakes, because your spouse absorbs these small moments every single day, for decades, in a way a stranger or coworker never will.
Honor works the same way, just aimed outward instead of inward. To honor your spouse means treating them — and the marriage itself — as something valuable: worth protecting, worth speaking well of, worth defending even when it's inconvenient or a little awkward to do so. Dishonor almost never announces itself plainly. It slips in disguised as a joke, a vent session, a shrug, an "everybody does this."
Ways We Disrespect Without Even Realizing It
None of these are usually meant maliciously. That's exactly what makes them worth naming out loud, one at a time — you can't correct a pattern you've never actually looked at directly.
Venting to friends or family about things that should stay private. This is the big one, and it's often the least intentional of the whole list. You're upset, you need to process it, and the easiest outlet is whoever's closest — a best friend, a sister, a parent. The problem was never that you need to process difficult feelings. It's who ends up absorbing the details. Your friend loves you, which means they're wired to take your side. Long after you and your spouse have made up and moved on together, your friend may still be quietly holding onto the version of your spouse you described on your worst day. You get to reconcile. They don't get that same closure — they just remember.
Making your spouse the punchline. A joke at their expense in front of others, especially a recurring one, does two things at once: it teaches everyone in the room that it's open season on your spouse, and it teaches your spouse that being laughed at is simply the cost of being with you. "I'm just teasing" often means "I found a socially acceptable way to say something true and hurtful, without having to actually own it."
Checking your phone while they're talking. It communicates, without a single word, that whatever's on the screen matters more than whatever they're saying right now, to your face. Do this often enough and your spouse eventually stops bringing things up — not because the topics ran out, but because somewhere along the way, they learned it wasn't worth competing with a screen.
Correcting or contradicting them in front of other people. Even when you're factually right, the setting turns a small correction into public embarrassment. There's a version of this conversation that can happen privately, later, kindly. Doing it in front of others was never really about accuracy — it's about being right at their expense.
Not defending them when someone else criticizes them. Staying silent while a friend, coworker, or family member puts your spouse down sends a message, even when you meant to stay "neutral" or simply avoid conflict. Silence, in that moment, reads as agreement — to the critic, and often to your spouse too, if they ever find out it happened.
Making decisions that affect both of you without them. Big or small — booking something, agreeing to something, telling someone else you'll "handle it" — deciding unilaterally communicates that their input was optional, not essential. It's rarely about the decision itself. It's about what got skipped in order to make it.
Bringing up old mistakes in unrelated arguments. Keeping score turns your spouse's past into a weapon they can never fully set down. If something's already been forgiven once, dragging it into an unrelated fight tells them the forgiveness was conditional and temporary all along, rather than real.
Comparing them to someone else. A parent, an ex, a friend's spouse, even a fictional standard scrolled past on social media — "my friend's husband always remembers this kind of thing" lands as an insult no matter how gently it's phrased. Comparison rarely motivates change. It just adds a second wound on top of the first.
Defaulting to sarcasm. A little sarcasm between two people who deeply trust each other can be genuinely affectionate. But when sarcasm becomes the default tone — the water you both just swim in without noticing — it becomes a way to say cutting things while keeping full deniability. "I was just joking" stops being true somewhere around the tenth time you say it.
Why This Matters More Than You'd Think
It's tempting to think venting to a friend is harmless — a pressure valve, nothing more, no different than complaining about a bad day at work. Research suggests otherwise. A 2014 study found that telling others about the bad things a partner did actually made people less invested, less committed, and less satisfied in their own relationship afterward — the act of venting didn't just describe the frustration, it appeared to deepen it.¹ Separately, research following couples through their early years of marriage found that wives who talked to friends about marital concerns instead of talking to their husbands directly reported lower marital quality over time, not higher.² Venting can feel like relief in the moment it happens. But the research suggests it often functions less like release, and more like rehearsal — practicing resentment instead of actually processing it.
This connects directly back to something touched on in Lesson Two: contempt — talking down to your spouse, mocking them, treating them as beneath you — is the single strongest predictor of divorce that researcher John Gottman identified across decades of studying couples.³ And contempt rarely starts out looking like contempt. It usually starts as "harmless" jokes at your spouse's expense, told often enough that they eventually stop feeling harmless to the person on the receiving end.
But the research doesn't stop at what to avoid — it also points clearly toward what to build instead. Gottman's team found that stable, happy couples maintained roughly five positive interactions for every one negative interaction, even in the middle of conflict.⁴ Outside of conflict, in the ordinary, unremarkable fabric of daily life, that ratio ran even higher. Gottman also studied something he called "bids for connection" — the small moments where one spouse reaches for the other's attention: look at that. Rough day. Can I show you something. In marriages that stayed together, spouses turned toward these small bids roughly 86% of the time. In marriages headed for divorce, that number dropped to around 33%.⁵ Respect and honor, in other words, were never just about avoiding harm. They're built — slowly, unglamorously, invisibly — in thousands of small moments of choosing to turn toward your spouse instead of away.
What Scripture Says About This
Paul tells the Romans something that goes well beyond simple politeness:
"Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor." (Romans 12:10, ESV)
Not merely don't dishonor one another — outdo one another in showing honor. That's a competition where both people are trying to lose. It's a far higher bar than "don't be rude," and it reframes the whole lesson: this isn't only about avoiding harm, it's about actively searching for ways to elevate the person you married.
Peter gives husbands a specific instruction that applies, in spirit, to any spouse:
"Likewise, husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered." (1 Peter 3:7, ESV)
Disrespect in a marriage isn't treated here as a private matter with no wider consequence. It's described as something that actually gets in the way of a person's relationship with God. Whatever happens between the two of you behind closed doors doesn't stay contained there.
Proverbs makes a striking claim about something as ordinary as everyday speech:
"Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits." (Proverbs 18:21, ESV)
That's not reserved for dramatic, once-in-a-lifetime moments. It applies just as much to the offhand joke, the eye-roll, the comment made to a friend when your spouse isn't in the room to hear it. Proverbs also paints a vivid picture of what public honor looks like in practice:
"Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land... her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her." (Proverbs 31:23, 28, ESV)
Honor, in this picture, was never just a private feeling kept quietly to yourself. It's spoken, publicly, where other people can actually hear it.
Paul's description of love in 1 Corinthians reads almost like a checklist held up directly against the list above:
"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful." (1 Corinthians 13:4–5, ESV)
Nearly every item on the "ways we disrespect without realizing it" list is a direct violation of one clause in that verse — which makes it worth holding up as a mirror regularly, not just reading once and moving on.
Paul pairs two instructions together in Colossians, one to wives and one to husbands, in back-to-back verses:
"Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them." (Colossians 3:18–19, ESV)
These two verses were never meant to be read apart from each other. A wife's call to submit and a husband's call to love without harshness are given in the same breath, each shaping how the other is lived out — submission offered into a marriage where harshness has no place, and love expressed in a way that makes that kind of trust possible. Neither instruction was handed to one spouse as leverage over the other. Harshness is rarely one single dramatic event you could point to and name. It's usually a tone, repeated often enough that it quietly becomes the default — which is exactly the pattern this lesson is trying to interrupt before it hardens into place.
And Paul closes his fullest teaching on marriage in Ephesians with a line addressed to both spouses at once, each given their own half of the same instruction:
"However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband." (Ephesians 5:33, ESV)
Notice that respect isn't framed here as something owed only in one direction. Paul pairs it directly with love — love and respect, given side by side, each spouse responsible for their own half rather than waiting to see whether the other goes first. A husband isn't asked to earn love before giving it, and a wife isn't asked to earn respect before extending it. Both are simply the shape love takes inside a marriage, offered freely rather than kept as a reward for good behavior.
Building a Culture of Honor
Avoiding disrespect is only half the work. The research above suggests the other half matters just as much: actively building a habit of honoring your spouse, on purpose, especially in the small, ordinary moments nobody's grading you on.
A few concrete shapes this can take in your own marriage:
Speak well of them when they're not there. Not performatively — genuinely. Let your default story about your spouse, the one you tell friends and family without even thinking about it, be a story of respect.
Notice their bids. When your spouse says "look at this" or "you won't believe what happened today," treat it as an invitation worth taking, not an interruption to get through.
Praise them in front of others. The Proverbs 31 picture of honor is public, not private. Say the good thing where other people can actually hear it, not only to your spouse alone, behind closed doors.
Let old mistakes stay forgiven. If you said you forgave something, treat it as actually forgiven — which means it doesn't get to quietly resurface as ammunition the next time you're upset about something else.
Closing Thought
Respect was never going to be proven in the big, watched moments — the toast at the wedding, the anniversary card, the anniversary dinner where you both remember to say the right things. It's proven in the moment you reach for your phone instead of your spouse's eyes, or in the moment you decide whether a joke is worth the laugh it'll cost them. Familiarity was never a license to stop being careful with the person you know best; it was an invitation to be more careful, because no one else will ever absorb your careless moments the way they will, for as many years as you're given together. Outdo one another in showing honor isn't a suggestion for special occasions — it's a daily, unglamorous competition where the only way to win is for both of you to keep choosing it, especially on the ordinary days when nobody else is watching at all.
Talk About It
Before you move to the action steps, sit down together and talk through these:
Is there anything you've shared with a friend or family member about our marriage that you wish you hadn't?
Do you ever feel like the punchline of a joke, even a "harmless" one? When?
Is there a time you needed me to defend you and I didn't? How did that feel?
What's one thing I do that makes you feel deeply respected? Do I know that, or are you telling me for the first time right now?
Is there an old mistake either of us keeps bringing back up? What would it take to actually set it down?
When was the last time you praised me to someone else, out loud? When was the last time I did that for you?
¹ 2014 study on the effects of venting about a romantic partner on relationship investment, commitment, and satisfaction. ² Longitudinal research on newlywed wives' disclosure of marital concerns to friends versus spouses and its association with marital quality. ³ John Gottman's research identifying contempt as the strongest predictor of divorce among the "Four Horsemen." ⁴ Gottman's research on the ratio of positive to negative interactions in stable versus struggling marriages. ⁵ Gottman's research on "bids for connection" and turning-toward rates in couples who stayed together versus those who divorced.
Take Action:
Audit your venting circle. Think honestly about who you talk to about your marriage, and what you've shared. Is there anything you'd want to walk back?
Catch one joke before it lands. This week, notice if you're about to make your spouse the punchline in front of others — and choose not to, even if it's "just for laughs."
Defend them once, out loud. If the opportunity comes up this week, speak well of your spouse in front of someone else — especially if you wouldn't normally think to.
Put the phone down for one full conversation. Pick one conversation this week and give your spouse total attention — no glancing at a screen.
Retire one old mistake. Choose one thing from the past you've brought up more than once, and decide — out loud, to your spouse — that you're done bringing it up.
The Conversation:
Is there a habit of yours — a joke, a tone, checking your phone at a certain moment — that you'd call "harmless," but that you've never actually asked your spouse how it lands for them?
When you're upset with your spouse, who's the first person you turn to? What does that say about where you go to process, versus where you go to reconcile?
Can you think of a time you stayed quiet while someone else criticized your spouse? What kept you from speaking up in that moment?
Is there an old mistake of your spouse's that you thought you'd forgiven, but that still shows up in your mind during unrelated arguments? What would it actually take to let it go for good?
When's the last time you praised your spouse to someone else, out loud, where they could have heard it? If it's been a while, what's gotten in the way?