The Thankless Grind

A Quick Note on Building from Scratch...

It’s been a gratifying two weeks since we made the biggest announcement in Midlife Male history and the response has been overwhelming. If you missed it, we’re moving to a paid subscription model on August 17th. You can read my full column on why right here.

If you've been thinking about joining us, the introductory Premium Member offer is available for only 22 more days. Premium includes our Wednesday and Sunday editions, monthly live conversations with Greg, Jon and special guests, our complete resource library (nearly a dozen e-books included), members-only chat, exclusive event pricing, and much more. All for under $7/month with our launch offer. 

We’re incredibly proud of where Midlife Male is headed, and we're even more excited about who we’re building it with: YOU

I’m just gonna come right out and say it; it's fucking hard being all the things: husband, father, provider, man. To dedicate yourself to being fit, looking your best, feeling your best, performing your best and living your best takes a lot of effort and energy and it can wipe you out. And being responsible not just for yourself, but for your family and everyone orbiting it adds a daily weight nobody sees.

Personally, I wouldn’t want it or expect it any other way, but there’s this stigma that men aren’t supposed to talk about it. Well, I’m talking about it today. And I’m letting you know I think it’s something we should all talk about.

Most of you reading this take all of it on. Knowingly, rightfully, and for the most part, expectantly. But let's face it, it can be exhausting, and we often feel vastly under-appreciated.

For most of us, our greatest need is not admiration from those around us, but appreciation for who we actually are, not just what we do and take care of and  provide. Occasionally, we want something simple: acknowledgment. 

We’re happy to be in charge: leaders, manly, responsible for the well-being of our loved ones and everyone else in the room. That's how we're wired. At least, that's how I'm wired, and how the men around me are wired.

And we also want to vent when we know we’ve taken on the heavy load and it’s taken for granted. I don’t think wanting a simple “thank you” or some latitude after a long day is petty, insecure or immature. It's one of our character traits. You take the good with the bad. We’re not perfect men. 

But we try. We really, really try.

This past weekend I gave it my all. There I was waking up at 6AM before anyone else in my family. Quietly leaving the hotel room to get in a walk and a workout. Bringing back cappuccino for my wife. Taking my son to the PLL to see some lacrosse. Making dinner reservations for my wife’s birthday and taking everyone out. Sorting out the rental car details, the flights, getting tickets for Olivia Dean because she’s in Denver the one night we’re there and my wife loves her. Moving Auden out of his apartment in Boulder and into a new apartment and new beginning in Denver. Commiserating with the other dads loading and unloading boxes at the same time, because we're the only ones who really get it.

We just go. We get shit done.

And as much as we thrive on being called upon, and we’re up to have a good time, we get rightfully frustrated when we realize we've gone too far and done too much and all we can hear is when the first word out of anyone's mouth, for anything, is our name, followed by a need.

"Greg, did you change the car reservation?"

“Greg, can you….”

“Greg, did you remember to…”

And with each request, I think to myself:

I just loaded ten boxes into the SUV, dealt with the new landlord, figured out how to get the stuff upstairs, carried everything, scheduled everything, drove everywhere, picked up coffee, got lunch, scheduled dinner reservations and now… what? You need something else?

I know it sounds petty. And I know the people around me love me and care for me. They’re my favorite people in the world. But sometimes (and I know other guys feel this way too) it can feel like you’re just expected to do all this shit. Like you’ve set the bar so high that the baseline isn’t even appreciated anymore.

And I, like you, internalize all this and I probably wasn’t the nicest at times to my wife as I battled this inner monologue, but damn, I just needed someone to say, “I appreciate what you’re doing and I know it’s a lot” instead of “I need this other thing.”

At one point in the weekend, my wife knew it, or could feel that I was done. She could see that I’d reached that point in the weekend where I needed something for me and she just gave me a hug. It wasn’t much, but it was everything.  

Every guy I talk to feels like he's carrying three times the load of anyone else in his family. And I'm being conservative with that estimate.

I'm not saying we're right. I'm saying what we're all thinking and we want someone to acknowledge it, because that's what makes us feel like a man.

It's not testosterone. It's not the walks or the workouts. It's not the money, the cars, the watches, or any other form of self-validation we chase down and build on our own. Nothing matters more for our self-worth, our confidence, our ego, and our vitality, as the women we love telling us we've done something well. That we're needed. That we're appreciated. That she “couldn't do this without you.”

The thing is, most good men are running on empty, and nobody's noticed.

The guy who gets up, does the work, pays the bills, shows up to the recital, fixes the leak, answers the 11pm call from his kid, keeps his word, doesn't cheat, doesn't disappear, doesn't make it about him. The guy who was raised to believe that being a man meant being useful, being steady, being the one people could lean on.

That guy is exhausted. And almost nobody has said “thank you” in a long time.

And no, we didn't sign up to be thanked constantly. That’s absurd. We're not asking for that. We’d hate it, in fact. But there's a difference between not needing applause and never hearing a single word that tells you you're seen. Somewhere along the way, "he's just doing what he's supposed to do" became the whole review. No follow-up. No "I noticed." 

Just silence, and the next ask.

That silence does something to a man over time. It's not dramatic, nobody collapses. It's quieter than that. You start to go numb to your own effort. You stop expecting to be seen, so you stop looking for it, and eventually you stop asking yourself if it even matters that you keep showing up, and more importantly how you show up. That's the dangerous part. Not the burnout. The numbness.

I've talked to hundreds of men through coaching, and this is the thing that comes up more than money, more than sex, more than any of it: does anyone actually appreciate me, or am I just useful? Those are not the same question. Useful is a function. Appreciated is a relationship. 

A man can be extremely useful and feel completely unappreciated and that combination will hollow him out faster than almost anything else I've seen.

If you need the receipts, the research backs it up: men who tie their worth to being the provider; which is most of us, whether we admit it or not, take a direct hit to their identity and confidence when that role goes unacknowledged, not just when it's threatened. It's not only "am I providing enough." It's: "Does providing even register with anyone?” And a lot of men quietly answer no.

I'm not writing this to guilt anyone. I'm writing it because I think a lot of men reading this have never heard someone say it plainly: 

You are allowed to want to be appreciated - that is not weakness. 

That is not needy. That is not "I need a woman to complete me." That's just being a person who wants the people he shows up for to occasionally look him in the eye and say, “I see what you do. I need you. I'm glad you're mine.”

That sentence will do more for a good man's confidence than almost anything you can buy him.

So here's to the unsung heroes of midlife: the men quietly carrying more than anyone notices, showing up before sunrise, and asking for exactly one thing in return, to hear that it matters.

Consider this a call to arms for every man in the trenches of midlife, doing the work even those closest to you rarely clap for.

I see you. I am you. Keep going. 

In health,

Greg

PS:  Want to live, happier, healthier, wealthier, stronger and have more fun in midlife? I wrote the book on that, and now I coach a select few men 1:1. Book a call with me HERE. 

PPS: What am I most excited about? It’s our Midlife Male Excellent Adventure Club.  Jon & I are committed to doing “cool sh*t, with cool guys” and we’ve built the club we want to be members of.  Want to learn more? Click HERE.