Men can’t be vulnerable for this reason
Communicating emotional struggle has an unexplored prerequisite: that there is someone in your life that can hold you as a sure foundation. When we are struggle we often look towards those in our life that we view as having a ‘great equilibrium’ or being a ‘rock’. How many times have you heard a women refer to a partner or significant male figure in their life as ‘my rock’?
It is less often that this role is reversed. Men are conditioned to be the rock of the family unit. To deal with distress, adversity and the emotional implosion of those they care for without themselves coming to blows emotionally. Within my family my dad has remained this reassuring role for me throughout much of my life.
The unspoken expectation is that men remain secure for us. Because to see the emotional wobbles of a man you have relied upon for much of your life is extremely disconcerting. It can feel like a foundation in your life is shaking – the confidence with which you feel able to express emotion is in the context of this sure and dependable figure.
I thought of myself as becoming ever-more self-sufficient emotionally, but it’s dawning on me that I have an unspoken expectation on men in my life to remain emotionally secure so that I can feel free to express myself.
Brene Brown speaks so eloquently about this. Speaking about men’s emotions she says: “we ask them to be vulnerable, we beg them to let us in, and we plead with them to tell us when they’re afraid, but the truth is that most women can’t stomach it. In those moments when real vulnerability happens in men, most of us recoil with fear and that fear manifests as everything from disappointment to disgust.”
She tells a story of a man attending one of her book signings with his wife and daughters who said: “You see those books you just signed for my wife and my three daughters?" I said, "Yeah." "They'd rather me die on top of my white horse than watch me fall down. When we reach out and be vulnerable, we get the shit beat out of us. And don't tell me it's from the guys and the coaches and the dads. Because the women in my life are harder on me than anyone else."
Though we encourage vulnerability and think we want it from them, what is that reality of men suffering breakdown, dissociation or other physical ailments? How can we endure it and support without feeling a rock is falling from under us?
The figure we have relied on has changed or may be changing. It can be tempting to demand back the elements of the man we feel we have ‘lost’ and to respond with feat and anger. But if there’s one shame-inducing phrase to hear in a depressive episode, it’s ‘where have you gone? You’ve changed’.
Is toxic masculinity being unknowingly encouraged by women? And where does this stem from? A survival instinct or a fear of being alone or abandoned? Maybe men feel unable to call women out on this due to years of historical oppression women have encountered.
Maybe it’s to do with power dynamics changing too. They don’t want to relinquish the power that their equilibrium holds, and we might not feel able to enter the role of ‘carer’. And when men start acting differently, how can we feel held? Where is that foundation now and what if it never exists again?