Dearest Gentle Reader,
Intimacy requires vulnerability, and for many men, vulnerability feels like stepping into unfamiliar and dangerous territory.
For men, as with women, there is often a deep desire for closeness, emotional connection, and being seen and understood. But, for many men, that desire is frequently met with hesitation or even fear, because it means letting down the walls that have been carefully built over years of self-protection.
Now, these walls are not accidental. They are the result of years of social conditioning—both direct and subtle—that told men to toughen up, not cry, and keep emotions in check.
Many men have learned to associate emotional exposure with rejection or loss of control.
Many men fear that if they show too much of themselves—their doubts, their pain, their needs—they will be judged, shamed, or abandoned.
Many men fear being seen as weak, as less-than, as broken. So they hold back and stay guarded. They keep relationships at a safe distance, staying within the realm of surface-level conversations and predictable behaviors. Even when they deeply care, even when they crave closeness, they may struggle to express it.
This internal conflict often leads to confusion and frustration.
On one hand, men want to be loved for who they truly are. Men want connection, not performance. Men want to be known beyond what they provide or how well they perform their roles.
But on the other hand, men are afraid of being fully seen. They worry that if they open up, what is revealed will be rejected.
That fear is powerful, I dare say. It keeps most men in a constant push-and-pull—reaching out and pulling back, wanting intimacy but fearing the exposure it requires.
How can we solve this?
Well, solving this tension begins with unlearning the idea that vulnerability is weakness. Seriously, vulnerability isn't weakness.
We solve this by acknowledging and accepting that openness is not a liability, but a bridge to deeper trust, real companionship, and emotional peace.
We solve this by finding safe spaces, emotionally literate communities, and people who model the kind of openness that doesn’t wound but welcomes.
When we begin to understand that intimacy is not something to fear but something to grow into, healing becomes possible. Slowly, intentionally, we can dismantle the myths that have kept us isolated. We can start to see emotional safety as a strength to cultivate, not a risk to avoid. We can learn that being seen is not a trap, but a gift.
And in doing so, we allow ourselves to be known—as much as we’re admired or respected—and truly loved for who we are underneath all the manliness.
— Jaachịmmá Anyatọnwụ
PS: The past two weeks were a hectic bunch form me. For that reason, I was unable to actively write/publish daily, as planned. So, this week, I may have to write/publish twice daily in order to exhaust all outlined topics for the men's mental health awareness series. Bear with me, would ya? Thank you, and see you in the evening!
Read Issue 1: Why Don't Men Cry?
Read Issue 2: Tough Doesn't Mean Numb
Read Issue 3: The Armour Called “I'm Fine”
Read Issue 4: "Man Enough” is a Performance of Masculinity
Read Issue 5: When Boys Become Men Without Becoming Whole
Read Issue 6: The Loneliness Epidemic
Read Issue 7: Perfectionism: The Myth Of Never Enough
Read Issue 8: They Say It's Competence, Yet The Man Is Functioning But Fading
Read Issue 9: For Most Men, Hustle Is Self-escape
Read Issue 10: Why Support Often Comes Too Late
Read Issue 11: Fatherhood And Emotional Distance
Read Issue 12: Pressure to Provide, and the Quiet Shame of Falling Short
Read Issue 13: Men should build friendship beyond banter
Read Issue 14: Why Men Only Get Their Flowers When They're Dead
It's a difficult place to be.
I so much dread intimacy, but at the same time I yearn for someone who wouldn't make me feel less than me.