More Than One Pair of Shoulders

by Jim Herbert

For the most part, my wife Christiana and I do a pretty good job of sharing the responsibilities of life. Of course there are times in general, and areas in specific, when one of us feels like we’re carrying more of the load than the other. The truth is that we make a pretty good team. I do the vast majority of the grocery shopping and nearly all the cooking. Christiana handles all of our laundry and keeps a mental inventory of everything in the house we might need outside of food.

I tend to be the one keeping time, tracking schedules, and zooming out to the bigger picture. Christiana is brilliant at noticing the small things and helping me loosen my grip on the clipboard of life when my inner taskmaster gets too tightly wound. When it comes to parenting, I’ve probably got a higher tolerance for the physical chaos of noisy play centers or wild afternoons at the park, whereas Christiana brings a finely-tuned gift for emotional attunement. She’s an extraordinarily stable anchor when our daughter needs to feel seen, grounded and soothed.

After nearly twenty years together, I think we’ve gotten better at understanding something that I feel is absolutely essential in any healthy relationship and that understanding is this:
We can’t rely on each other for everything, especially when it comes to emotional support.

We both need therapy. We both need trusted friendships. We both need other communities. We both need time apart from each other. We acknowledge that those other needs in life are not a failure of intimacy on our part, but rather the foundation of the continuation of that intimacy.

Last year, I probably carried more of the emotional heavylifting in our family. We went through multiple pregnancy losses and navigated some deep and murky waters. I did my best to show up for both my wife and daughter, even if it was at times at the expense of my own needs. Lately it’s been me who’s been struggling though…

As the weight of the heaviness of life has continued to pin me down over the last few months, I found myself slipping back into an old pattern that was more common in the earlier in our relationship: I began turning to Christiana not just as my partner, but as my primary source of emotional support.

It’s a little humbling to admit, especially to those of you who know me through our MenLiving community of men who are fully committed to inner work, emotional fluency, and supporting one another on life’s journey. The reality is that even as Managing Director, I’m not all that different from many men I’ve met in the circle.

We may be committed to growth. We may be doing our own work. That’s all well and good, but when the storm rolls in, it’s easy to retreat to the one safe harbor we know best: our partners. A few weeks ago, I read something that put a name to this pattern of behavior. It’s called mankeeping.

Mankeeping is a term coined to describe the emotional labor many women do in relationships, especially heterosexual ones. The word refers to the way some men unintentionally rely on their partners to be their emotional sounding board, therapist, cheerleader, personal growth coach, and source of self-worth. Most of the time this is all done subconsciously and without any particular malicious intent. Leaning heavily into a partner is not typically born out of laziness, but rather it’s often born out of a lack of other emotional support systems, as well as a culture that hasn’t always encouraged men to turn to each other when we are hurting.

Even with the best of intentions, expecting one person to carry the full emotional weight of a relationship or of another person just doesn’t work. Trying to “keep” another always winds up draining the person who is being leaned on and it enables the one who is doing the leaning to stay isolated.
I think what has helped me recognize this dynamic is that I’m not alone anymore. I’m surrounded by other men who are committed to holding space for my grief, for my fear, for my joy, for the parts of me that don’t wrap up neatly. I’ve built a network of other men who I can turn to when things feel hard. I’m also lucky enough to work as a coach, helping other men do the job of connecting to themselves more deeply and to others more honestly.

Over time, I’ve come to believe that a healthy, mature man isn’t defined by his ability to go it alone, but rather by his willingness to stay connected to others when things get heavy. In the language of the four male archetypes, this is the King energy. The King is rooted and steady, not because he never falters, but because he doesn’t collapse. It’s also the Lover energy, open to beauty, grief, tenderness, and joy.

If you’ve ever found yourself placing the full weight of your emotional needs on the shoulders of someone you love, I can assure that you are not broken. You may be tired. You may be at your wit’s end. You may feel like you are all alone, but I can also assure you that there is another way that does not include collapsing and leaving your partner there to pick you up all by themself.

That’s what I love about MenLiving. It’s a place where we don’t have to be everything for each other, but where we can still be something real. Our spaces are places to show up, be witnessed and know that we don’t have to carry the whole load alone. Not only do we reap the benefits, but so does everyone we love, care for and try to help “keep” when they are struggling on their own journeys.

Thanks for reading. If this resonates, I’d love to hear back from you in the comments or reach out to me directly at jim@menliving.org. I hope to cross paths with you in one of our spaces soon so that we can do our best to keep walking each other home.