Vibing With Your Husband

Thoughts on Marriage from an Inexperienced Wife

Keturah Hickman

Jun 02, 2026

Growing up, my parents agreed that the internet and TV were taboo. We listened to story-cassettes on our radio and watched VHS tapes on our box television set. Our father was a hardworking man with very little time for family activities, but when we were little he liked to buy a new movie from the discount bin at Walmart and we’d watch a movie together after dinner.

Usually this was okay.

But sometimes my mother would get into one of her religious fits. She’d take us older children aside and say, “I’m not saying you can’t watch movies with Dad, but I won’t be watching them with him anymore because the Bible says it’s wrong to set anything evil before your eyes. However, it’s your choice. So don’t tell Dad that I said you can’t watch the movies with him if you decide it’s not a good thing to do.”

I loved spending time with my father, but I wanted to please God more. So when Dad would put the movie on I’d say, “I’m going to read instead.” My younger siblings, too, would choose to do something else. Sometimes.

Sometimes we’d watch the movie, and our mother’s glare would let us know God was angry with us. And so the next night we would go to another room while our father watched a movie.

I remember one time sitting on the kitchen floor reading a book. But I couldn’t read the words on the page because my eyes were filled with tears I had to hide. I was the only one who’d chosen to do the “right thing”. The rest of my siblings were watching “Walker Texas Ranger” with my father, a favorite show of ours. My mother was in her room. I wanted to scurry to my bedroom so I wouldn’t hear the show or my siblings’ laughter, but I was nervous they might see me crying if I walked by. Or maybe mom would think I was trying to catch a glimpse of the television. My father called out, “ Keturah, why don’t you come watch the movie with us!”

“I’m reading!” I lied.

My younger brother came into the kitchen during a break. I whispered, “Why are you watching the show? You know it’s bad.”

“It’s not bad,” he insisted, hurrying back to the living room.

What made all this more confusing, is sometimes my mom would forget her lecture to us, and she’d watch the movies with the family. When she did that, I would tentatively join the family. Surely, if she was doing it then it wasn’t so wrong after all. My guilt would wash away, and I’d enjoy the time spent with my family.

The Crunchy Nag

I’m not qualified yet to give an abundance of marriage advice, but if there’s anything I’ve witnessed in my short life, it’s that no husband appreciates his wife beating him over the head with the Bible and her private interpretations. Most men want a partner to do life with, not someone to yuck their yum at every turn.

“ You really should stop drinking soda if you don’t want to die young.”

“I don’t want our children listening to that music. Please turn the radio off.”

“The Holy Spirit has been speaking to me about your friends, and I realize I’m no longer comfortable with you having your friends over anymore.”

“Take your shoes off!”

“Put the toilet seat down!”

“Why are your dirty underwear on the floor? You’re such a child.”

Nobody wants to be handed a piece of cake that has the icing licked off. This is what it’s like to live with a contentious wife. Such women claim to be on a crusade for holiness in the family. They are certainly on a crusade, but they aren’t helping their family get to the Promised City any faster with their private interpretations of Scripture.

I have a friend whose parents divorced when she was a teenager. She told me that all her father ever wanted was for his wife to sit down and have a cup of coffee with him in the morning. But she hated coffee and was always overwhelmed with a bunch of little things nobody asked her to worry over. “ I often wonder if my parents would be together if they’d just drank coffee together each morning.”

My parents are still together, but their marriage isn’t something that I’d call inspirational. I’ve always believed there might be a little more love between them if my mother had simply chosen to let go of her holier-than-thou attitude and enjoy life with my father.

And maybe if she had, he would’ve been more interested in having conversations about what movies we watched together as a family. Instead, the issue remained tense and inconsistent throughout my childhood.

Let Your Hair Down and Have a Drink

I’d resolved to drink the coffee and watch the movies if that’s what my husband wanted. But he could do without both of those. What he loves is having a drink with the old men, and he wants his wife at his side.

I don’t believe it’s wrong to drink (the Bible only prohibits drunkenness) however , I grew up a teetotaler, so bar culture is foreign to me. When I first started going with my husband I hated it. I had nothing in common with anyone there. The atmosphere is crass and hostile toward femininity. The chairs are high and uncomfortable. I don’t have a taste for the booze. Even the bar ladies often snub me, probably offended by my naive prudishness.

Many women in my circles advise young wives to not go to bars with their husbands. But why? That would be like refusing to go out to eat with your husband because the Bible condemns gluttony.

I could be like Vashti and refuse to show, but I’d rather be more supportive like Esther. I’m not interested in changing my husband or making him give up anything that God doesn’t ask him to give up. It’s not my job to do the work of the Holy Spirit. And if I’m worried about my own salvation, well, the Bible says I’m saved through child-bearing not by beating my husband into submission. So if I’m feeling an urge to get my husband on the straight and narrow, I probably just need to have a few more babies.

I can have all the high and mighty ideas I want for myself, but the Holy Spirit isn’t going to convert me into a nag. Nobody wants to be controlled or changed. I don’t want my husband berating me anymore than he wants me to constantly get on his case. It’s not good for the children either. They more than anyone need to see two parents respecting and building each other up in love.

The beautiful bonus about choosing to enjoy life with your husband is he remains your best friend.

What’s the point to marriage if you’re not vibing?

We get to do through everything together. The music he likes I also like. His friends become my friends. Where he goes, I want to go, too. What he loves, I love, too. I didn’t marry a fixer-upper, but a man I adore.