Men are beautiful.
Not just when they stand tall, but when they don’t.
Not in the ways the world usually praises,
but in the quiet, gentle, almost invisible ways.
In the way they grind and hustle,
protect and provide,
and still find room to love with everything they have.
In the caring gestures they don’t even realize matter.
In sleepy voices filled with tenderness,
and tired eyes that shine with dreams.
In the long, tight hugs that calm your storms.
In the gentle forehead kisses that say more than words.
In their lame jokes meant only to pull out your smile.
In the strange, stubborn ways they motivate and inspire.
They may not be the best listeners,
but hey, they try and that is enough.
And there are those rare moments
when they speak of the things they love.
Things you may not understand,
yet you can’t help but be captivated.
They take care of their families
with a quiet responsibility that asks for no applause.
They chase dreams with a fire you can’t help but admire.
They give up comfort for the people they love.
And work hard, quietly and consistently.
How they make women feel safe.
With their calm, steady presence
that we overthinking ones so desperately need.
And encourage us to do things that scare us
because they’ve got our back.
But here’s the part that breaks my heart.
Men carry their battles in silence,
with the prettiest smiles on their faces.
They don’t have to.
It’s okay to break down sometimes.
They can lay their burdens down
without feeling weak for doing so.
They are safe.
They can let us in
into their thoughts,
their worries,
their little overthinking moments,
and especially the things that sit heavy on their hearts.
They don’t need to be strong all the time.
To manage everything alone.
To hide their pain
just because they were taught that “men don’t cry.”
Men deserve softness.
Support.
Safety.
Their hearts deserve rest,
and their souls deserve love
not earned, not proven,
just given.
Love that meets them where they are.
Because I’ve met men who are extraordinary.
kind, loyal, loving, gentle,
yet somehow believe they don’t deserve any of it.
Men who’ve survived entire worlds alone,
yet still try to carry it all themselves.
I hope they know
that they don’t have to.
They’d let us hold their sadness,
their madness,
their heart
the way they’ve always held ours.
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