Is it time to quit?

There was little that my husband's father considered more loathsome than quitting. And so my husband played sports he no longer enjoyed, stayed at a school he hated, at jobs that were toxic.
To this day, my husband, who is more than a half-century old, can be crippled by the words "What are ya, a quitter?"
And, yes, sometimes quitting is lazy. Sometimes, it's a way of avoiding hard but rewarding work.
But sometimes, many times in fact, quitting is the smartest thing we can do.
Sometimes quitting is about knowing what's right for us...and what's wrong. It's about respecting ourselves, honoring our time and energy. Sometimes, it can open us up to the possibility that things can be different rather than keeping us stuck in the mud, spinning our wheels and getting absolutely nowhere.
It took me a long time to consider that quitting could be a good thing. As the child of an addict, we are groomed to try harder, do better, give one more chance, believe that this time – this time! – things will be different.
And, to some extent, it worked. After a decade, my mother got sober. After a few tries, she stayed sober. Concluding that my patience and stick-to-it-iveness worked (experts in addiction call this "magical thinking"), I doubled down on my "I'm not a quitter and will therefore be rewarded" attitude out in to the world.
Nobody was beyond redemption, every situation was tolerable, as long as I could believe things would get better.
Not surprisingly, I stayed in friendships that were toxic, and then a seven-year relationship that everybody but me could see was never going to get better. Volunteer opportunities in which I didn't want to let people down. Jobs that underpaid me. 
Yeah. I know. But only in hindsight.
Still, that first lesson – that someone I loved could change if only I stuck with them long enough – was etched on my heart, carved deep into my brain. 
Thing is, my mom got sober because she wanted to get sober. It had nothing to do with my patience or my loyalty.
She changed because she wanted to. 
Unfortunately lots of people don't.
And all our waiting and wishing and magical thinking isn't going to make them change. 
Consider this:
You're having the same fight for the 1000th time and you don't feel an inch closer to understanding each other.
He's insisting that his anger is your fault.
He belittles you, dismisses you, treats you like a liability not as asset.
He refuses to get help because "I'm not the one with the problem."
When someone won't be accountable for their behaviour; when he won't seek help despite others pointing out he needs it; when he wants you to "move past this" without actually working through the reckoning; when he wants things to go back the way they were because he benefited from that while you didn't...
Then, my friends, perhaps (probably!) it's time to quit. 
Your presence in another's life should be earned, not taken for granted.
And though I am a fierce believer in people's ability to change, to transform, to reinvent themselves, to learn from their mistakes, we cannot allow the potential for that to blind us to a reality in which they are not.
The only person you should never give up on is yourself.