Silence can feel like rejection.
You ask a question, you reach out, and he gives you half a nod, a shrug, or changes the subject. What’s really happening is usually quieter than it looks.
Most men were never taught the language for this part of themselves.
They can describe a car noise down to the bolt, but not what anxiety feels like in their chest. When something goes wrong physically or emotionally, the words just don’t exist yet — so they go still.
That stillness can look cold, but it’s a kind of scrambling. A man who says nothing is often running triage in his head: What’s wrong with me? What if she leaves? How do I fix this before anyone notices?
When he’s quiet, your instinct might be to fill the space with guesses. Try patience instead. A small opening like,
“You don’t have to explain it right now, but I’m here when you want to,”
does more than a dozen questions.
The goal isn’t to make him talk — it’s to make it safe enough for him to find the words.
