I first saw a man crying when I was a kid, 9 years old.It was my father and it was the first and last time I saw him like that. He lay on the bed in my room, rolled up like a too big hangover, and cried softly. The reason (I only found out weeks later) was the divorce of my parents, which was shortly afterwards.
This sight has done something to me.His grief was so real and he was such a strong man. I lay down with him, put my arm around his back and also cried. Just for other reasons: his grief made me so helpless and I just didn’t know what was going on.
My daughter’s father rarely cried in our time together.Once out of fear at the birth of our daughter. And once with our separation. Both things that also made me cry. (Only that in our years I have not only cried twice, but certainly 200 times.)
When I see a man crying who is important to me, I know it’s serious.Anyway, if he doesn’t cry often.
The something so bad in his heart must be broken that it can only be dealt with with tears.That the pain or the fear has to find its way, so as not to fizzle out.
It touches me.I want to comfort and hug and be there when he needs comfort or compassion.
Men are also human beings.All people have tear glands. And feelings. Some cry faster, some just don’t.
Only once did it deter me when a man cried.I’ve been with him for a long time, but more or less in the learning phase. One morning I woke up next to him and he cried softly. Actually, everything was good. No strife, no death in the family or anything like that. When I asked him why he was crying, he said he was afraid of losing me. Everything went well. real.
This tearful confession overwhelmed me.It felt like emotional blackmail (certainly not one), it was scary to me, because I suddenly felt like I had to touch him with velvet gloves and he apparently needed constant confirmation because his self-worth wasn’t big enough to be safe to feel. From then on I looked at his behaviour better in all sorts of situations and in the end the tears were a wake-up call. I noticed many things that I had overlooked before: he was insecure, clinging; i loved him. His tears – for nothing – led me to separate from him a short time later.
But to return to the question: what do I think when men cry?
The same thing I think about women:
“Hey you, come here.Here, a handkerchief. Tell me what oppresses you. Maybe it’s enough to say it all. Or we’ll come up with a plan. Or I cry along a bit when I’m close. In any case, I’m here and with you.”