Don’t Stomp on What You Don’t Understand

Sometimes it’s the only way we know how to hold something without breaking it.When words might shatter what’s soft, we may go quiet instead.It doesn’t mean we don’t care. It means we do.

When I’m holding a woman I care about, my inner world feels held, too — and it makes the outer world feel less sharp.Not because she’s responsible for my calm.Because good closeness reminds me what I’m made of.Softness without fear.Strength without burden.Steadiness without control.Vulnerability without fragility.Warmth without urgency.Some people feel like noise. Others quiet me.

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩—𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧…meet you where you’re at and stay—share the load instead of handing you theirs—hold you when it’s your turn to be heavy—make you feel chosen, even through conflict and repair… 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰.

I put the lid back on the peanut butter without thinking about it.Didn’t sigh. Didn’t narrate it to myself.Didn’t analyze it.Did the thing and moved on.Cleaned the spoon and got on with the day. Just noticed afterwards—Huh. I’m probably okay today.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆𝘀You don’t have to explain everything right away.You don’t have to shrink the ache down to something digestible.You don’t even have to be okay yet.You just have to show up honestly.And they don’t flinch.They don’t rush to fix it.They just stay.That’s what it looks like when someone can hold…

I had to buy ice and strawberries and motor oil today.None of that felt romantic.But if I’d been buying them for someone else, it might’ve.