“You either walk inside your story and own it, or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness.” –Brené Brown

 

My Interpretation: The older you get, the more obvious it becomes: Accountability is a choice. & some people will sprint in the opposite direction just to avoid holding a mirror. We have had enough of being unpaid therapists, unacknowledged teachers, & emotional pack mules for people who refuse to grow the fuck up.

---

Series 5: Standalone Punches – Post 9

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Look. I get it.

We were (millennial here) raised by parents who said:

➱ “Suck it up.”

➱ “Boys do not cry.”

➱ “What happens in this house stays in this house.”

 

So now?

We have a whole generation of grown-ass men wandering around emotionally constipated,

with one coping skill: shutting down.

& one defense mechanism: lashing out.

 

But you know what we do not have time for anymore?

 

Raising them.

---

By 25, your childhood may explain you –

but it no longer excuses you.

 

You are not 11.

You are not trapped.

You are a grown-ass man

with access to Wi-Fi

& a library

& free podcasts

& TikTok therapists

& probably a girlfriend

who has already sent you every resource under the sun.

 

If you can name every player on your fantasy football team,

you can name your own triggers.

 

If you can spend hours researching car mods,

you can spend 10 minutes reading about anxious-avoidant attachment.

 

If you can call me/women “crazy” during an argument as a ‘valid’ excuse –

you can also call your insurance provider & ask for a therapist.

---

I have been patient.

I have extended grace.

Hell, I have overextended it –

 

Giving space,

writing things down,

trying not to cry too hard in front of you,

just so you would not shut down again.

 

& yet –

you ask,

“Why are you so emotional?”

 

Because I feel, motherfucker.

Because I am alive.

Because I care.

 

& because I am no longer going to perform stillness just to keep you comfortable

in your own emotional stunting.

---

It is not my job to:

• Make you aware of your tone.
• Translate your silence.
• Manage your moods like a weather forecast.
• Hold my needs until you feel like being soft.
• Teach you how to be a decent partner.

 

That was your mother’s job.

Not mine.

 

& guess what?

She did enough.

She raised you.

The rest is on you.

---

& women?

Let us not pretend we get a pass.

 

If you weaponize tears, silence, or passive aggression when you do not get your way?

If you pretend fragility is power?

If you expect a man to be emotionally fluent when you will not even admit you are mad?

 

We need to do better too.

---

This is not an attack.

It is a wake-up call.

 

Grace is free.

Growth is earned.

& I am done doing all of it alone.

 

So, no –

It is not my job to teach grown men emotional intelligence.

 

But it is my job to protect my peace.

 

& I will.

With every soft boundary I now say out loud.

 

Xoxo ♡