03/12/2024
I recently came across a post by Bas Waijers Baumann that explored how men share their emotions in relationships. It suggested that repeatedly asking for validation or processing emotions with a partner can make her feel unsafe or even resentful. While I agree with some points—like the value of emotional responsibility and having a support system outside the relationship—it also raised questions for me about how we navigate vulnerability and intimacy.
The truth is, the deepest relationships will inevitably invite the most wounded parts of ourselves to the surface. That’s not a flaw; it’s a reality of being human. When we allow someone to truly see us, we’re not just showing them the strong, composed parts of ourselves—we’re also bringing forward the parts that feel young, vulnerable, and in need of care. At some point, those unmet childhood needs will find their way into the relationship. If the story is that these needs are unwelcome, shameful, or “too much,” it doesn’t just create distance—it reinforces the very wounds they’re trying to heal.
This dynamic raises an important question: What does it say about a woman’s relationship with her own vulnerable parts if she feels irritated, angry, or triggered by her partner’s? Could it be that she struggles to hold space for herself in the same way? If vulnerability was dismissed or overwhelming in her past—whether in childhood, past relationships, or even societal messaging—it makes sense that she might find it hard to embrace those raw, tender parts of her partner. That irritation might not be about him at all. It might be about her own unmet needs or the fear of being responsible for his emotions.
This is where I feel compelled to push back against some of the messaging I’ve encountered in the ta**ra and "polarity" world, which often reinforces these beliefs. While it’s unhealthy for a man to expect or feel entitled to his partner acting as a surrogate mother, the idea that his young, unloved parts are inherently unwelcome in his intimate relationship and must be taken elsewhere may say more about his partner than him and is equally unhealthy. Polarity teachings can be beautiful when they help us understand energy dynamics and create attraction, but too often they reduce human relationships to rigid archetypes: the "strong, contained masculine" and the "open, flowing feminine."
This oversimplification can leave no room for the messy, vulnerable humanity we all bring to relationships. If we tell men that their tenderness, doubt, or fear must always be processed outside the relationship, we risk reinforcing the very shame and isolation these teachings claim to heal. Instead of fostering deeper intimacy, this narrative can push couples further apart, making men feel like their emotional needs are a burden and women feel like they have to harden themselves to protect their sense of safety.
This doesn’t mean we should pour every unprocessed emotion into our partner’s lap. Emotional responsibility is vital—learning to self-regulate, turning to friends or community for support, and processing our own feelings before bringing them into the relationship is important. But if we expect relationships to be tidy, where emotions are only shared when they’re polished and contained, we’re missing out on the kind of connection that transforms us.
Deep relationships are messy. They ask us to show up with our whole selves, not just the parts that feel easy or comfortable. They ask us to face our own wounds and learn to hold space for someone else’s. And they ask us to rewrite the stories we’ve inherited about what love and vulnerability are supposed to look like.
So yes, let’s have support systems outside our relationships—friends, mentors, even therapists—where we can process and grow. But let’s also create relationships where we can bring our unpolished, messy, human selves to the table. Let’s lean into the discomfort and curiosity of asking: What’s really being triggered here? What can I learn about myself in this moment? How can we approach this together?
Because at the end of the day, a relationship isn’t just about holding space for someone else. It’s about creating a space where both people can bring their whole selves—wounds and all—and know they’ll be met with curiosity, compassion, and a willingness to grow together.
