WHAT EVERY WOMAN NEEDS
TO KNOW ABOUT MEN
If He Could Say What He Really Felt,
This Is What He’d Tell You …
By Zen Prem
Most men don’t want to be distant. He’s just never learned how to be close, without feeling like he’s about to emotionally shit the bed
Let’s get that out of the way first.
Most men weren’t raised to be emotionally available.
He was raised to be useful. To keep the wheels turning.
To shut up, get on with it, fix things, pay bills, don’t cry, don’t need, don’t break.
He was taught how to function. He was never taught how to feel.
So when you say: “Just tell me what you’re feeling…” you may as well be asking him to explain the mating patterns of deep-sea octopuses in Sanskrit.
It’s not that he’s unwilling. It’s that he was emotionally house-trained with shame. He grew up swallowing grief like it was chewing gum. He learned that softness equals weakness. That fear equals failure. That vulnerability equals exposure equals humiliation.
And then he meets women who say: “I just want you to open up…”. But here’s what that request sounds like in his heads: “Please hand me the keys to the one room inside you that’s never been safe. And I promise I won’t flinch.”
Except… you might. And you have.
And so has he.
Because when a man does open that door, when he lets himself be scared, raw, uncertain, … too many times, what meets him isn’t reverence. It’s rejection.
He’s suddenly “too much.”
Let’s get that out of the way first.
Most men weren’t raised to be emotionally available.
He was raised to be useful. To keep the wheels turning.
To shut up, get on with it, fix things, pay bills, don’t cry, don’t need, don’t break.
He was taught how to function. He was never taught how to feel.
So when you say: “Just tell me what you’re feeling…” you may as well be asking him to explain the mating patterns of deep-sea octopuses in Sanskrit.
It’s not that he’s unwilling. It’s that he was emotionally house-trained with shame. He grew up swallowing grief like it was chewing gum. He learned that softness equals weakness. That fear equals failure. That vulnerability equals exposure equals humiliation.
And then he meets women who say: “I just want you to open up…”. But here’s what that request sounds like in his heads: “Please hand me the keys to the one room inside you that’s never been safe. And I promise I won’t flinch.”
Except… you might. And you have.
And so has he.
Because when a man does open that door, when he lets himself be scared, raw, uncertain, … too many times, what meets him isn’t reverence. It’s rejection.
He’s suddenly “too much.”
Too messy.
Too emotional.
Not strong enough.
Not grounded enough.
Not man enough.
You want him cracked open, but still stoic. You want his tears, but art-directed. You want his fear, but only if it comes with a plan and a sexy voiceover.
But that’s not real. That’s a curated breakdown.
That’s Instagram-safe vulnerability. And most men don’t have access to that kind of tidy unravelling .
When a man starts to feel, really feel, it’s not beautiful at first. It’s awkward. It’s clumsy. It’s terrifying. It’s rage with no language. It’s grief that’s been fermenting for decades under a lid of “I’m fine.”
Because the male psyche is a warehouse full of unlabelled boxes. He doesn’t know what’s inside until one bursts open at the worst possible moment, usually halfway through a conversation about why he forgot to text back.
He’s not emotionally unavailable. He’s emotionally unsupervised.
He’s been left alone with his shame so long he’s started calling it “independence.” He’s scared shitless you’ll see through the faรงade and realize half the time he doesn’t know what he’s doing. In life. In love. In bed. In conversation.
But he also wants to show up. He wants to feel safe.
He wants to be that man, the one who can hold space without shutting down. But not if he has to perform our evolution to earn love. Because performing is exactly what broke him.
So if you really want to know the one thing every woman should understand about men… ?
He’s not scared of you. He’s scared of being seen, and left.
He’s scared that the second he let’s you into the soft, unfinished places, you’ll quietly pack your emotional bags and leave him with a look that says, “That’s it?”
And look, maybe men are emotionally constipated idiots sometimes. ( ok, most of the time) … But it’s not because we don’t care. It’s because no one ever taught us how to metabolize pain without violence, shame, or silence.
So here’s what I’ll say to the women reading this: I know it’s hard to love someone who doesn’t yet know how to love themselves. I know your nervous systems are exhausted from holding the emotional scaffolding of every relationship.
But he’s not your project. He’s not your redemption arc. He’s not here to complete your healing story.
We are men, trying. Fumbling. Waking up slower than you wanted us to. But waking up all the same.
And to the men reading this…?
Stop pretending you’re not scared. Stop outsourcing your emotional labor to women and calling it intimacy. Stop confusing stoicism with strength and silence with sovereignty.
Start doing the work. Not to impress her.
But to finally meet yourself.
You don’t heal by performing evolution. You heal by showing up when it’s fucked up and messy.
Because the truth is, every man has a moment where he must choose between safety and soul. Between performing and presence. Between the armor and the love he actually fucking wants.
And if he doesn’t choose presence…
He will never experience, and probably lose everything that ever mattered.
You want him cracked open, but still stoic. You want his tears, but art-directed. You want his fear, but only if it comes with a plan and a sexy voiceover.
But that’s not real. That’s a curated breakdown.
That’s Instagram-safe vulnerability. And most men don’t have access to that kind of tidy unravelling .
When a man starts to feel, really feel, it’s not beautiful at first. It’s awkward. It’s clumsy. It’s terrifying. It’s rage with no language. It’s grief that’s been fermenting for decades under a lid of “I’m fine.”
Because the male psyche is a warehouse full of unlabelled boxes. He doesn’t know what’s inside until one bursts open at the worst possible moment, usually halfway through a conversation about why he forgot to text back.
He’s not emotionally unavailable. He’s emotionally unsupervised.
He’s been left alone with his shame so long he’s started calling it “independence.” He’s scared shitless you’ll see through the faรงade and realize half the time he doesn’t know what he’s doing. In life. In love. In bed. In conversation.
But he also wants to show up. He wants to feel safe.
He wants to be that man, the one who can hold space without shutting down. But not if he has to perform our evolution to earn love. Because performing is exactly what broke him.
So if you really want to know the one thing every woman should understand about men… ?
He’s not scared of you. He’s scared of being seen, and left.
He’s scared that the second he let’s you into the soft, unfinished places, you’ll quietly pack your emotional bags and leave him with a look that says, “That’s it?”
And look, maybe men are emotionally constipated idiots sometimes. ( ok, most of the time) … But it’s not because we don’t care. It’s because no one ever taught us how to metabolize pain without violence, shame, or silence.
So here’s what I’ll say to the women reading this: I know it’s hard to love someone who doesn’t yet know how to love themselves. I know your nervous systems are exhausted from holding the emotional scaffolding of every relationship.
But he’s not your project. He’s not your redemption arc. He’s not here to complete your healing story.
We are men, trying. Fumbling. Waking up slower than you wanted us to. But waking up all the same.
And to the men reading this…?
Stop pretending you’re not scared. Stop outsourcing your emotional labor to women and calling it intimacy. Stop confusing stoicism with strength and silence with sovereignty.
Start doing the work. Not to impress her.
But to finally meet yourself.
You don’t heal by performing evolution. You heal by showing up when it’s fucked up and messy.
Because the truth is, every man has a moment where he must choose between safety and soul. Between performing and presence. Between the armor and the love he actually fucking wants.
And if he doesn’t choose presence…
He will never experience, and probably lose everything that ever mattered.
Zen Prem
Coauthor of Beyond Bullshit To Bliss
with Samantha Spiro
