There was a time when pain was private.
People disappeared quietly when they were heartbroken.
They processed grief in silence.
Confusion unfolded internally.
Healing happened slowly, away from an audience.
Think about the men in your life. Your father, your brother, your partner, your closest male friend. Now think about the last time any of them said — genuinely said, not as a joke, not brushed past — I’m not okay. I’m struggling. I need help.
We confused walking away with growing up. They are not the same thing.
You’ve said it. Or you’ve heard someone say it. “I’m just choosing myself.” And in that moment, it felt right. It felt powerful. It felt like something you’d been waiting to say for a long time.