I got my feelings hurt recently.
It wasn’t dramatic. Nobody yelled. No doors slammed. Just a small sting, a quiet moment that hit a little too deep.
There’s this girl. The kind that draws your in like a magnet. The type that makes you rethink how picky you thought you were. I liked her, told her as much, and did what I could. When I found out her attention was split, instead of saying anything, I disappeared.
No texts. No calls. Just silence.
Eventually, I reached out, not to restart anything, but to be real. I told her what I meant when I said I liked her. That I had her back, regardless of what this was or wasn’t.
Her response was fair (why do I even say things like this?), and she made it clear that my reaction was not.
And honestly? It sits with me. But later, when I thought about it, I realized something:
Men aren’t taught to communicate how we feel. We’re taught to manage it. Swallow it. Distract ourselves. Focus on work, the gym, the grind. Because somewhere along the way, being vulnerable stopped being a human thing and became a weak thing. And no guy wants to look weak, especially in front of someone he likes.
So instead of saying “That stung,” I just disappeared.
Instead of “Hey, I’m feeling a bit thrown off,” I went ghost.
It’s not because I didn’t care. It’s because I did. But I didn’t know how to express that without feeling like I was handing over a piece of armor, and I didn’t know if it would be protected or pierced.
So I chose silence over softness.
Retreat over risk.
And that’s the problem.
We talk a lot about how men don’t open up. But we don’t talk enough about why. About the emotional chokehold that tells us we’re only respectable when we’re detached, rational, and unaffected.
But I was affected. I just didn’t think I had permission to show it.
I want to be the kind of man who can feel without shame. Who can say “I’m hurt” without a grin to cover it. Who can stand in vulnerability and still feel strong. But damn, it’s hard to unlearn years of emotional armor.
If you’re a guy reading this, maybe you’ve felt it too. That urge to pull away. That inner voice that says, “Don’t be soft. Don’t be dramatic. Just move on.”
But maybe, just maybe, what we need isn’t to move on faster.
Maybe we need to move through it, with a little more honesty, and a lot less shame.