Cry Like a Man: Fighting for Freedom from Emotional Incarceration

by Jason Wilson

Yet amid all the risk and reward, the dilemmas and dangers, and the thrilling advances we’ve made, men have yet to conquer the most basic human ability—to cry.

With all the theories, credos, and misleading mantras—“Man up,” “No pain, no gain,” not to be outdone by the mother of all misguided intelligence, “Real men don’t cry”—we have been deceived into suppressing our emotions to impress others; there’s simply no room for weakness.

I realized after a lifetime of holding it all in—the injuries from cruelty, neglect, and the loss of so many loved ones—that men couldn’t and shouldn’t have to withstand the pressure they were never designed to endure alone. The barriers I had subconsciously built, brick by agonizing brick, were merely a defense that was keeping the damage inside—pushing it down deeper and deeper. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t control anything. I was a prisoner of my own emotional incarceration without the slightest idea of how I got there. The key was right in front of me; I just couldn’t see it.

Learn to feel without fear. Accept that you’re not a superhero and remove the cape. As men, our “Kryptonite” is the grinding lifestyle that keeps us working when we need to rest, fighting when we need to seek peace, and worrying when we need to pray.

No one is born hating another person because of the color of their skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate. And if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite. Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom

THE NEMESIS Emotions are great servants but poor masters. Kajana Cetshwayo

His wife’s growing belly was viewed as an antagonist with more power than any tiny being should be allowed. The power to either fortify his masculinity or threaten it.

Though we try to resist, the circle of life keeps twirling around an irresistible center of gravity. The core of our personal universe, the beginning of our creation—our fathers. And after vacancy has dusted off the cobwebs of our unsettled recollections, we reach out one more time.

call. A father’s affirmation is foundational to a son’s confidence. In retrospect, after years of helping boys heal emotionally, I can now see it was neglect and abuse that fueled my brother’s misguided quest for affirmation. Redemption has been known to take a lifetime but also can be as quick as a single smile.

Sometimes I think people feel the desire or need to recover something wrong in order to make it right. To retrieve that detestable thing that’s too heartbreaking to leave the way it is. To salvage what we can before it disintegrates.

His obituary consisted of ninety words and a poem. Only ninety words to sum up his seventeen years of life, a young man who just the month before wore a graduate’s smile and held a golden ticket to college. It was small type, a narrow newspaper column, a nightmare in black ink that couldn’t be washed away—not with soap, tears, or the water of the Belle Isle shallows.

The sun still rose in the morning and set at night, but the abrupt end to his life kept the porch light perpetually burning. It never really goes out, even when your last bit of emotional energy is spent.

Throughout their young lives, boys are taught to withstand the strain of holding in their tears, suppressing them until it hurts. Eventually they grow into men who fear appearing vulnerable, a fate no self-respecting man can live with.

As men, we have to cease fathering from our wounds and seek healing from the trauma we’ve received so our sons can be loved comprehensively.

My dad’s promiscuous ways began a subliminal education and taught me that being faithful to one woman was a sign of weakness and debatable masculinity.

Men expect boys to act like men, but there’s rarely a man in their lives patiently teaching them how to be one! In other

Aggressively yelling at a boy is as effective as attempting to stitch up a wound with a needle and no suture. Discipline without love is ineffectual.

When our hearts are filled with security and trust in a dad who is present and loves us, we transition from living for our father’s approval, and begin to live from his approval.

It wasn’t ego, and it wasn’t vanity. It was pure lack of self-esteem that drove me to pretend I was bigger than I actually was. Bigger, badder, tougher … all the things that go with being a stereotypical male. They’re drilled into us from the day we’re born, filling a mold—the metal backbone of steel designed to withstand the pressure, the threat of human tears and lost virility.

The only saving grace was that my father wasn’t there to see it. His work at the barbershop was more important than the big playoff game any other dad wouldn’t have missed. And even though I was secretly relieved he wasn’t there to witness my coach’s lack of trust, any residue of faith in myself had vanished. From that point on, I refused to believe in myself. Life was too short, and my skin was too thin.

The paradox of trauma is that it has both the power to destroy and the power to transform and resurrect.

Trauma … it’s not always physical. I think emotional pain can often do far more damage. Many times bodily scars heal almost as good as new. A hairline scar or bruised tissue can easily be overlooked. But it’s the mental wounds that dig the deepest, rip the lining of our hope, and hinder our healing.

the conflict was resolved quickly, and I emerged unscathed. When a young man knows why he exists, he will no longer risk his existence.

But their pride in me was wasted. I didn’t want their approval for something I felt obligated to give them. I had compromised my own moral code to satisfy a bunch of guys that at some point had been pressured into doing the same. The cycle remained unbroken. They didn’t understand the gravity of what had just taken place—that something priceless had been taken from me. And I wasn’t about to tell them. For all they knew, this was one more notch in my belt, one more time in the ring. But it was during the drive home that it became real. I had changed.

Another school I loved; another school I had to leave. After the investigation, Nate and many others had to transfer schools. The trickle-down effect is real. We should never allow our emotions to dictate our actions, because our decisions can disrupt the lives of others.

Every boy needs a crew; every man needs camaraderie and a safe space to not only express his emotions but also release them, venting his cares to someone who cares. Sadly, a man’s concerns are often heard as complaining, just as a dog’s bark is annoying when no one sees trouble. Both warnings are rarely heeded before “the thief” breaks in and steals, kills, and destroys everything, even the dog. As men, we must take care of ourselves by truthfully expressing ourselves with other men we can trust. No matter our age, transparency will set us free.

Why are emotions such a surprise? It’s as if they’re someone we’ve never met—a person we’ve heard about but haven’t been introduced to. Then when they emerge in fighting spirit, we’re unable to identify them, much less control them. It’s a lot like Yah. You may know who He is and things He’s said and done. But if you’ve never personally met Him, talked to Him, and heard His voice, He’s a stranger. Unpredictable. At times terrifying. It only makes sense that He chooses to take up residence deep within us, in our hearts. Our emotional home. A place we as men tend to avoid.

But it was my unwillingness to get off the fence that was compromising my own walk, staying safely neutral within the nonbelieving status quo of my worldly friends. That’s no way to represent Someone who’s taken a bullet for you. However, if your heart remains pure and stayed on Him, Yah will help you make the choice. Bend your metal—your normal, sometimes to the breaking point—to ease you into the indestructible mold designed especially for your “new man.”

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.

It’s probably the most vulnerable state for men and one that felt so unnatural yet unavoidable. It’s called the process of healing. A transparency that reveals true intentions. A part of me was embarrassed. Growing up, I was taught to never be emotional in front of a woman. That they would inevitably use it against you. But let me tell you something: I’d also never felt release like that—grief, regret, love out in the open. All of it.

Chief was a warrior, and like most young men who desire a man to challenge them without condemnation, I eagerly continued.

What was that? I wondered, stunned that my motor skills had that kind of reflex. But it was not my body but my mind that wasn’t allowing me to hurt him.

Ungrieved losses are unhealed wounds that eventually get infected with depression, anxiety, and fear, just to name a few harmful side effects.

On January 15, 2007, Yah said it was time for my father to go home, and he answered the call. I rushed to the hospital and kissed him one last time before they took away his body. “Dad, I won’t let you down. I will preach the gospel, and the bowling pins you left standing in life, I’ll knock ’em all down.” Suffering—it chips away at, massages, and softens the hardest of hearts. It opens our eyes to the paper-thin barrier between us and the world to come. It clears out pettiness and prioritizes those things that matter most. It brings us down from our haughty heights. Before Dad took his last breath, he said, “If I could do it all over, I would.” May we all learn from the mistakes we make in life, while we still have a life to live.

We had finally found resolution and an appreciation for our own breakability. We were at last human together and so broken. I wished we had the chance to go back—to break free—and believe in each other from the start. What an amazing relationship that would have been. What could have been.

The mind is a complicated invention. At times, it’s a blanket of warmth filled with memories you wrap around yourself to recall how you once were: how you swam the currents of commerce, went the extra mile for a friend, sang alone, danced in a crowd, played, laughed, loved. How you kept on task or lost track of time. How you did things right or how you could have made them right if only you had the time.

This is when I realized that human love is conditional, which is why forgiveness is essential, leading to the freedom we all need and desire.

bound for eternal rest with the King of Kings. For decades I thought power was based on how much weight you could lift and how many men you could knock out. Now I realize anyone untrained can lift a dumbbell or break a jaw. But real power is when a man can navigate through the pressures of this world without succumbing to his negative emotions. To feel something painful and not push it away. To cry, just cry. Like a man.

No life manifests more beauty than the one who is broken! Stubbornness and self-love have given way to beauty in the one who has been broken by God.

Consistent victory comes from a much deeper place. The Most High said, “No one will succeed by strength alone” (1 Sam. 2:9). Men need to realize that “the fight” is won within themselves before it can be won out in the world. “As [a man] thinks in his heart, so is he” (Prov. 23:7 NKJV). In other words, what you think can directly influence what you experience and how you experience it.