written by Faith Waltson
He isn’t silent because he has nothing to say. He’s silent because the world has taught him that when a man speaks his pain, it rarely sounds like what people expect. Society tells men to be strong, to swallow their tears, to carry their burdens quietly. So when his suffering shows up in withdrawal, irritability, or quiet composure instead of loud emotion, it’s often mistaken for indifference.
Women, too, can fall into this expectation—longing for men to express themselves the way they might, and growing frustrated when he cannot. But his pain doesn’t look like hers. It hides behind composure, in gestures that often go unnoticed, in love that is tested by the demand that he “just talk,” when talking is the very thing he was taught never to do.
From childhood, boys are told to “toughen up” and “be strong.” These small lessons in silence grow into a lifetime of suppressed emotion. Suppressed emotion doesn’t disappear; it festers. It builds into frustration, anger, and withdrawal—especially in the relationships where he longs to feel safe.
The double standard is striking. When a woman navigates her emotions—her mood swings, her hormones, her pressures—he is expected to understand, to support, to give grace. Yet when he feels hurt, misunderstood, or attacked, space for his pain is scarce. Add to that the outside pressures: financial strain, social judgment, and the constant need to prove his manhood. And being blamed for his woman’s unhappiness can feel like being beaten while he’s already down.
Sometimes, this pain shows up as agitation, irritability, or even aggression. Let me be clear: abuse is never acceptable. But recognizing that these behaviors can stem from unprocessed pain—not excusing them—allows partners to respond with awareness, set boundaries, and offer support in ways that help him heal without causing harm.
His silence, withdrawal, or even low libido is often used against him. Because his woman may feel rejected or disconnected, he can be unfairly accused of cheating, of not caring, or of being selfish. And God knows what else. The truth is, these responses rarely reflect reality; they reflect misunderstanding, unmet expectations, and a lack of awareness of how his pain manifests.
We focus so much on love languages—words of affirmation, gifts, physical touch, quality time—without truly understanding that they exist to enhance love, not replace the recognition of it. Yours may be gifts, his may be acts of service. You may want to feel adored through attention and words; he may feel loved through quiet actions, problem-solving, consistency, and showing up, even when carrying weight you may never see. Love languages aren’t a checklist; they’re expressions of what already exists in a heart that cares. Recognizing his language is as vital as speaking your own.
The things a woman asks of her man—love, support, affirmation—he needs too. He wants to feel cherished, appreciated, desired, needed, and safe. He, too, is the prize.
And often, he shows love in ways that aren’t recognized. Maybe he doesn’t take you out as frequently as you’d like or buy lavish gifts. But he shows up. He comes home every night. He is ready to defend your honor, protect you, provide for you and your children, and carry the weight of responsibilities the world never sees.
These quiet, consistent acts are proof of devotion, loyalty, and love. Instead of overlooking them, why not acknowledge them? Show him appreciation, recognize his efforts, and offer a safe space where he can be vulnerable without judgment.
Men’s pain often doesn’t scream. It hides in withdrawal, overworking, irritability, or silence. But it’s real. And love—steady, patient, nonjudgmental love—can help him feel seen, understood, and safe. Compassion doesn’t mean fixing everything; it means being present, respecting his emotions, and easing his burden when you can.
I am a woman. I am by no means perfect, and I’ve likely failed to fully understand at times. But I’m observing life, learning, and growing. I intend to embody everything and more that I require and desire in a man—and I first have to be that myself. Maybe if it starts there, we can begin to bridge the gap between what men feel and what the world sees.
I’m not a psychologist. I don’t have all the answers. What I share here are my own reflections and observations. But isn’t it common sense that everyone—man or woman—wants to be seen, heard, and valued? Men deserve love, acknowledgment, and compassion just as much as they are asked to give it.
So I ask: if we truly recognized that his pain looks different but matters just the same, if we understood that love can exist in many forms, would we finally bridge the silence that has kept too many men suffering alone? Or would we still mistake quiet for indifference, overlooking the ways he shows love, strength, and devotion every day?
These are my observations, my reflections. I don’t claim to have all the answers—but perhaps by asking, by noticing, and by opening the conversation, we can start to see him more clearly.
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Great Job TBWM & the Team @ THEBEYONDWOMAN Source link for sharing this story.