Let’s be honest—when we hear the word “divorce,” most of us flinch. It’s a topic no one wants to touch, especially in the frum community. After all, we pride ourselves on our values: shalom bayit, strong families, and community support. The Torah ascribes utmost importance to maintaining peaceful, loving relations between husband and wife. No effort is spared in the attempt to achieve this goal. In reference to an Aisha Sota, the Gemara tells us "Great is peace between husband and wife. For the Torah says that, in order to—hopefully—bring peace between a husband and his sotah wife, Hashem’s name, should be erased in the bitterwaters." But the truth is, divorce is no longer the rare outlier it once was. It’s here, in our neighborhoods, affecting families we know, and it’s time to face it head-on.
Sure, the statistics aren’t as staggering as in secular society. The Orthodox Jewish divorce rate used to hover around 10%—far lower than the general American rate of nearly 50%. But let’s not pat ourselves on the back too quickly. Recent reports suggest a staggering rise in those rates closer to 30%. Also, the sheer prevalence of marriage in our community—an impressive 85% of frum Jews tie the knot—means that even this smaller percentage translates into more broken homes than we’re ready to admit. And we need to ask ourselves: why?
Let’s start with the obvious: marriage is hard. No matter how much shadchanim emphasize compatibility, no couple is immune to challenges. While the neshamas of couples may be predestined, this does not mean that their temperaments and habits are matching. Marriage involves a constant effort to ensure that the couple's physical and emotional sides are as harmonious as their souls.
We live in a world that glorifies instant gratification. Swipe right, click “add to cart,” stream your favorite show in seconds. But real relationships aren’t clickable—they’re cultivated. Somewhere along the way, we started believing that love should always feel effortless, and when it doesn’t, we think something is fundamentally broken. Spoiler alert: love is a verb. It’s not a passive feeling; it’s an active commitment to care, respect, and grow together, even when it’s messy.
Data shows that emotional needs and problems with communication are among the most reported factors contributing to divorce for both men and women. For women, abuse—including verbal and emotional abuse—stands out as a significant contributor. This underscores the importance of fostering open, respectful communication and addressing emotional well-being in relationships.
Erich Fromm, a renowned psychologist, defines love through four elements: care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge:
Care: A deep concern for another’s well-being and growth. Thoughtful gestures and full attention are key.
Responsibility: Sharing struggles and supporting each other’s well-being. Offer tangible help and regular check-ins.
Respect: Valuing individuality and autonomy. Support your partner’s interests and listen without judgment.
Knowledge: Understanding your partner’s emotions and inner world. Stay curious and attentive to their needs.
Marriage has been romanticized to the point where many couples enter it with unrealistic ideals. Passion fades. Disagreements happen. Kids add stress. It doesn’t mean the marriage is doomed—it means it’s normal. The Torah never promised us an easy ride; it promised us growth. But growth requires effort. And it’s the challenges that bring closeness.
Are we doing enough to prepare young couples for the realities of marriage? Premarital counseling shouldn’t just be an optional “extra”; it should be standard. Newlyweds need tools to navigate communication, financial stress, and intimacy challenges before they escalate. For many, just attending 2-4 sessions of Kalla and Chatan classes isn’t good enough.
Now, let’s be honest about the stigma: community judgment. Too often, struggling couples suffer in silence because they fear the stigma of admitting their marriage isn’t perfect. This silence doesn’t save marriages; it destroys them. The Gemara also tells us that the Altar, the symbol for communal atonement, would cry for every divorce. The Altar's weeping shows that unresolved marital conflict is a national tragedy, not just a personal issue. We need to create a culture where asking for help is seen as a strength, not a shame. Knowing when to reach out for help, prior to large issues arise and proactively seeking marriage advice should be common space in our community.
And finally, let’s reframe how we view divorce itself. Yes, it’s painful. Yes, it should be a last resort. But let’s be honest: sometimes, divorce is the healthiest choice—for the couple, for the kids, and for the community. Judging those who make that choice only adds to their burden. Instead, we should offer support and kindness as they rebuild their lives.
So, what can we do? Here are some suggestions:
Normalize Support: Promote premarital and marital counseling as acts of strength, not desperation.
Cultivate Resilience: Teach young people that love grows through care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge—not just chemistry.
Build Community: Establish communal programs for couples to learn, connect, and grow together.
Show Compassion: Offer judgment-free support to those navigating the painful process of divorce.
Let’s be honest—marriage is sacred, but it’s not immune to challenges. By acknowledging the realities of modern relationships and offering proactive solutions, we can uphold the value of shalom bayit and support those who need it most. Because our values and the way we strive for harmony set us apart from the rest of the world.