Half light, half shadow....
C for Mental Health is a consociation of Nigerian students championing student mental health in Nigeria through meaningful discourse, advocacy and community engagement. Newsletters are by students for students!
“Half light, half shadow,” Tennyson wrote.
And isn’t that what we become, when we’re told to hide half of ourselves?
For too long, men have been asked to carry the unbearable. Asked to tough it out, to push down the tears, to laugh when it hurts, to smile when something inside is breaking…
Strength has been mistaken for silence, and vulnerability, for weakness.
But what if the bravest thing a man could ever do is to feel?
I think about how often boys grow into men with the same unspoken rule stitched into them: “Don’t cry. Man up. Don’t let them see you break. Be strong.” And so they carry pain like armor, laughing louder, standing taller, pretending that nothing has touched them, when in truth, everything has.
I’ve seen it in the subtle ways, in conversations. In the way a laugh sometimes covers the weight in a voice. The way “I’m fine” has become the most believable lie. I’ve heard it in the pauses between words; the way a voice cracks, then recovers quickly, as if to say, I shouldn’t let this show.
But why shouldn’t it show?
Why do we still believe that the heart is any less strong because it weeps? Why do we call it courage when men are crumbling inside, yet still pretend they’re fine?
I really can’t help but wonder…how much pain is sitting in men’s chests, waiting, yearning for a safe outlet?
Maybe this is why so many walk around with a heaviness that words can’t reach. Because little by little, they’ve started to believe that being human is somehow a flaw, that showing softness makes you less.
But it doesn’t.
Your feelings are not proof of weakness, they are proof that you are alive, they are proof that you care, that you’re touched by the world around you, that your heart is not numb. To me, that is the opposite of weakness, that is strength.
I know there are so many people carrying so much, even more than anyone realizes. You get up every morning, wear your smiley face, and go through your daily routine; you joke, you listen, you contribute, and yet deep down, maybe you are asking yourself: Does anyone see me? Does anyone know how heavy this is?
I may not know the details of your story, but I see the weight. And if no one has told you this before, let me be the first: you don’t have to hold it all alone.
It doesn’t make you less of a man to admit you’re hurting. It doesn’t make you fragile to let tears fall. It doesn’t strip away your dignity to say, I need help. In fact, there is something really courageous about being honest with yourself, about breaking the silence that has been forced on you for so long.
You don’t have to keep pretending, you don’t have to keep swallowing the words that are begging to be spoken, you don’t have to keep hiding the part of you that aches.
Because strength is not the absence of struggle. Strength is showing up, even when you’re breaking. Strength is being honest enough to say: This is hard, and I need to breathe.
So if today you feel like you’re holding too much, let yourself loosen the grip. If the tears come, don’t fight them back. If the words rise, let them find a way out. Give yourself permission to feel what you feel, without shame, without apology.
Because “they never learned to love, who never knew to weep” ~ Tennyson.
Hi, I’m Zainab Oderinlo.
I write real stuff about mental health and life. I talk about my struggles, my thoughts… all of it. I sincerely hope it helps you feel less alone…❤️