We begin life needing connection.
We are social beings. From our earliest days, we want to be seen, known, accepted, and to belong. As babies and children, we look to the people around us to notice us, respond to us, and be attuned to what we're experiencing.
That desire doesn't disappear when we become men.
But we can get very good at disconnecting from our desire.
Maybe you have friends but rarely talk about what's really going on. Maybe your partner wants more from you emotionally, and you're not sure what else you're supposed to say. Maybe you're used to handling things on your own and aren't particularly comfortable needing other people.
You might not even think of yourself as lonely.
Sometimes the better question isn't, “Why don't men connect?”
It's “What happened that made connection difficult in the first place?”
We Learn What Parts of Us Are Welcome
Maybe you were upset and then told to toughen up. Maybe showing fear or sadness made other people uncomfortable. You might have tried to talk about something important and didn't feel understood. Or maybe difficult things simply weren't talked about in your family.
It doesn't necessarily take a dramatic rejection.
We also learn through much smaller experiences that certain parts of us are more acceptable than others.
Be strong. Don't complain. Figure it out. Don't need too much.
Eventually, to hide what we want from other people can feel safer than risk not getting it.
And after a while, we might not even recognize how much we still want it.
We handle things ourselves. We keep friendships centered around activities. We make a joke when something gets too personal. We wait until we've solved the problem before telling anyone there was a problem.
Maybe you're the person everyone comes to when they're struggling, but you're not sure who you would call if you were the one struggling.
From “I Should” to “I Want”
Men sometimes come into therapy already knowing what they're supposed to do.
I should communicate better.
I should open up more.
I should have closer friendships.
But another should like these often just give our inner critic something else to use against ourselves.
Instead, I think it's worth asking a different question:
What do I actually want? (if it felt safe)
Do I want my partner to know me better?
Do I want a friendship where I don't always have to say everything is fine?
Do I want someone I can call when life isn't going well?
A should can feel like another obligation. A want tells us something about ourselves.
Moving Toward Connection
Knowing you want more connection doesn't mean you have to suddenly start telling everyone how you feel.
Start by getting curious.
What happens when you think about telling a friend something personal? What do you imagine he might think of you? What happens when your partner asks what you're feeling?
Do you change the subject? Make a joke? Tell yourself it isn't a big deal? Shut down?
There might be a good reason you've learned to respond that way.
Understanding that reason matters. But insight alone doesn't bring change. At some point, we also need the opportunity to experience something different.
That might mean telling a friend you're having a difficult week before you've figured everything out. It might mean telling your partner, “I don't know exactly what I'm feeling, but I don't want to shut you out.” Or it might mean asking for help when your instinct is to handle it yourself.
Connection doesn't mean telling everyone everything. Part of healthy connection is deciding who feels safe, what you want to share, and who you want to let understand you more fully.
You can value independence and want connection.
You can enjoy time alone and want to be known.
You can be strong and still need other people.
Two things can be true at the same time.
Maybe the question isn't whether you should open up more.
Maybe it's whether there are people in your life you would like to let in.
