sent by F R E D V A N R I P E R | April 6, 2025
A few nights ago, I caught myself doing something ridiculous.
I was lying in bed, running through tomorrow’s checklist like I was preparing for a combat mission:
Work deadlines. School drop-offs. Groceries. The kid’s science project. That thing my wife asked me to follow up on but I hadn’t touched yet.
Then I caught myself.
I was “pre-solving” problems that didn’t even exist.
My nervous system was treating my family like a failing startup I had to rescue.
That’s when I realized:I was stuck in survival mode—again.
We’re not just tired.We’re afraid.
Afraid that if we stop spinning the plates, everything crashes.
That if we don’t hold it all together, we’ll let everyone down.
I’ve coached enough men to know this isn’t rare.
It’s a pattern.
And here’s the kicker:
We’re not the only ones feeling it.
In many homes, our partners are carrying just as much—often more—with less recognition.
So when we carry things alone, we don’t just burn out.
We also block the chance for real partnership.
We don’t earn respect by doing everything ourselves.
We earn it by building systems that create shared ownership.
Because here’s what’s really going on:
When you try to carry it all, you’re not just burning yourself out—
You’re reinforcing the belief that asking for help makes you weak.
That if you just push harder, you’ll “catch up.” That no one else can help, or should.
And that mentality?
It creeps into your communication with your partner and kids.
You get short. Defensive. Shut down.
You think, “Why don’t they see how hard I’m trying?”
Meanwhile, they’re thinking, “Why won’t he just talk to me?”
This is how fractures begin.
Not with a blow-up.
But with silence. Assumptions.
The weight you never named.
Here’s the truth:
You’re not failing because you’re struggling.
You’re struggling because the system you inherited is flawed.
So if you want to fix this, you’ve got to retune the parts of you that were taught to do more, say less, and never break.
That’s not optional.
It’s essential.
Most men don’t fall short because they don’t care.
They fall short because they’ve been carrying expectations they never chose, and holding in emotions they were never taught how to name.
So start here:
This one’s big.
You don’t prove your worth by being the most capable, self-reliant, unshakable man in the room.
You prove it by being honest.
By choosing curiosity over control.
By showing your family your emotion—not just your motion.
Say it with me: “I’m not weak for asking for help. I’m strong for not going it alone.”
Pick one moment this week where you'd normally muscle through or stay silent.
Then try something different.
You don’t build trust by pretending you're fine.
You build it by showing you're human—and here.
You weren’t meant to white-knuckle your way through fatherhood and partnership.
You were meant to build something better—together.
And the people who love you?
They don’t want the overloaded version of you.
They want the whole version.