Many people are very diligent in practicing this skill, pretending to be just right enough so that no one asks more, nodding in the right place while their minds are a clump of electric wires. At that time, men are often praised for being brave because they complain less. But few people know that silence is due to firmness, or just because they do not allow themselves to speak.
People often confuse stubbornness with stubbornness. stubbornness means knowing you are in pain but still going on. stubbornness means no longer feeling anything, or pretending to be like that and gradually getting used to it. Many men pass the age of forty with a collection of "small things": A big project fails, a broken marriage, a long-term friendship breaks down... But then, there are nights, those "small things" naturally gather together fully, reminding them that it is still somewhere in their minds just waiting for an opportunity to arise.
Maturity begins when we dare to speak out, but in a selective way. Not telling everywhere, but choosing a place to tell. Some people only talk to old friends, the kind of friends who don't need to explain the context. Some people talk to the woman they love, not to ask for help, but to be seen. Some people also choose to have a conversation with themselves through a very "chil" space run so that all thoughts are released like birds, finding a place to park themselves.
Interestingly, when daring to look directly at the most fragile part, the man does not weaken. Conversely, he begins to distinguish between pain that needs care and fear that needs to be named. He stops being irritable for no reason, stops using alcohol as a shield. He knows how to say sorry, knows honestly "I'm not okay" without being shy.
However, not all exposures are mature. There are times when you speak out just to put emotional responsibility on someone else's shoulders. Adulthood lies in knowing what you are doing with that fragility, sharing to connect, or to avoid standing up alone. There are parts that should be put on the table, but there are also parts that need to be kept in separate drawers.
Not because it's ugly, but because it's too private. In the end, growing up is like a habit of being discreet, daring to look, daring to name and daring to choose a place to place your fragile part down carefully. When your eyes still dare to open wide to look at the truth, the road, no matter how rough, is for walking, not for avoiding. And perhaps, that's enough to continue.
