We Are Not Equal

Can a relationship ever be truly 50/50?

I don’t think so. 

While heteronormative marriage roles were once distinct (husband works, wife stays home), modern times have (thankfully) rewritten the rules for who does what and when.

But what happens when you’re in a two-income household with pets, kids, laundry, grocery shopping, etc.?

Suddenly, roles and responsibilities are muddied.

Who picks up the kids from school?

Who takes out the trash each week?

Who does the grocery shopping or cooks the meals?

And what, exactly, is FAIR?

(If you’ve heard of the book Fair Play by Eve Rodsky, you know this idea has become a huge conversation in modern relationships—how we divide the invisible labor of home, family, and life.)

When we first became parents, my wife and I fell straight into the trap. 

We started keeping score—a classic (and brutal) new parent mistake—and without really meaning to, we sank into rigid roles. No real conversation, no real strategy. Just... inertia.

Before long, it felt like we were living out of invisible “buckets”:

Plan the kids’ schedules? Buy their clothes? That was her bucket.

Go to work? Take out the trash? Solidly my bucket.

If something didn’t land in our assigned bucket, it basically didn’t exist.

This mentality caused us to see each other as adversaries rather than co-captains of the same ship. It wasn’t productive and definitely didn’t progress our relationship.

Over time, we got so lost in our own schedules that we fell into the "I'll take care of my stuff, you take care of yours" mindset. Sometimes it worked—but a lot of the time, one of us would get overwhelmed, frustrated, or just flat-out exhausted.

Because we’re both entrepreneurs with constantly shifting workloads, our schedules aren't predictable week to week. One of us might be cruising while the other is drowning in deadlines—and that imbalance, if we weren’t proactive, would quickly build into resentment.

At first, we only checked in during big transitions—like when one of us took on a major client or started an in-house contract role—knowing the ripple effect it would have on our whole routine at home. 

But eventually, we realized we needed a standing weekly Sunday meeting. Otherwise, things fell through the cracks: we'd forget to book a babysitter, miss a commitment, or try to manage the same load even when one of us was totally maxed out.

Now, every Sunday, we sit down and map out the week ahead. We cover:

• School drop-offs and pickups
• Kids’ extracurricular activities
• Who’s handling dinner and groceries
• Confirming childcare for nights out or events
• Deciding if anything needs to come off the calendar (because not everything stays a priority)
• Making sure we each have solo time (for work, rest, or seeing friends)
• Managing expectations around availability—physically, mentally, and emotionally—based on what’s on our plates
• Checking in on how our “love tanks” are doing (because logistics matter, but so does connection)

This intentional reset each week has saved us so much friction. It helps us plan realistically, support each other better, and set clear expectations without needing to micromanage or constantly remind each other during the week.

We also update our shared calendars during the meeting so all the logistics live in one place—no need to chase each other down midweek asking, "Wait, who's doing pickup today?"

It also allows us to seek support from each other when it’s needed, and makes us feel like we’re entering the week as a solid team.

And guess what? It’s rarely a 50/50 split.

Our division of duties ebbs and flows depending on who feels more stressed, pressed for time, or needs a breather. I may take on more one week, knowing she’ll have my back the next. 

It’s kind of like treating a lifelong friend to dinner—you don't stress about splitting the bill evenly every time because you know, over the course of the relationship, it evens out. You support each other where you can, when you can, trusting that it all balances in the long run.

Doing it this way keeps our responsibilities flexible and makes sure we’re showing up for each other where it matters most, rather than keeping tabs on a set list of obligations.

That doesn’t mean every relationship needs to split things fluidly, either. Plenty of couples we know divide responsibilities in a more structured way—and it works because it’s intentional and agreed upon.

It’s not about what’s right or wrong. It’s about building something that works for your relationship, based on your real needs, strengths, and preferences.

In our marriage, we naturally gravitate towards different tasks. I’m the family chef because cooking is a creative outlet for me and I genuinely enjoy it (my wife, on the other hand…😁).  

Sometimes that means I leave work early to get dinner on the table—and I’m happy to do it, because it’s one way I support our family unit.

We tailor  the division of labor to what’s happening in our lives at any given time.  Some weeks she handles 70% of the household load while I handle 30%, and sometimes it flips. It’s never an exact 50/50 split—and that’s exactly what makes it feel like a true partnership.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

How do you approach splitting duties in your relationship? Hit reply—I’m always curious how other couples effectively divide the labor in their household.