I Used to Think He Was Weak—Until I Realized I Was Numb

I used to think men weren’t worthy of softness.

That they should just take it—life, struggle, disrespect—and wear it like armor.

I believed the myth that emotions made a man less… and silence made him strong.

So when you showed me yours—your tears, your longing, your wounds—I judged you.

I thought you were weak.

Because you felt.

But I was wrong.

I grew up in a household where feelings didn’t exist—not really.

There were no I love you’s.

No “How are you feeling?”

Only tasks. Only expectations.

Only pressure to keep going.

In my family, if you did what you were told, it didn’t matter if it crushed your spirit.

Love was measured by labor.

Words didn’t matter—acts did.

So I learned to survive in a world where emotions were a liability.

Where numbness was strength.

Where affection felt foreign.

And praise? A rare gift, not a given.

I didn’t know I had internalized that.

Until you.

You confused me.

Because you were emotional and strong.

You felt deeply and still stood tall.

You held your ground with a tenderness I didn’t understand.

And instead of honoring that, I resented it.

I looked down on you for being younger.

For not having degrees.

For needing love in ways I didn’t know how to give.

But the truth is… you were teaching me.

You taught me loyalty.

You taught me presence.

You taught me how to slow down and feel instead of exploding or detaching.

You taught me how to hold myself accountable without shame.

And yes—my needs were valid.

I needed help with the kids.

With the finances.

With the mental load of it all.

But I communicated those needs like a general—not a partner.

I was commanding when I should’ve been inviting.

Cold when I should’ve been curious.

Controlling when I should’ve been connected.

Now, I’m learning how to be soft without feeling unsafe.

How to express myself without the numbness.

How to process emotions without waiting for solitude or explosions to do it for me.

And honestly… I don’t want another man to benefit from the woman I’m becoming.

Because I became her in your shadow.

You helped me grow up.

You held a mirror to everything I didn’t want to face—and still chose me through it.

That deserves something.

So if there’s any part of this that still matters to you,

Know this:

I don’t think you’re weak anymore.

I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever known.

And I see you now.