I used to believe my job as a man was to fix every problem that came my way.
If you brought me a tough situation, my brain immediately started racing for the solution. I thought that was being helpful. I thought that was being a leader.
I was wrong. I was just being impatient.
I remember my wife coming to me, clearly frustrated about a terrible day she had at work. She was venting, describing this massive breakdown with a coworker.
I could feel the solution forming in my mind: “You just need to go to your boss and say X, Y, Z.” The words were right on the tip of my tongue. I could feel the tension building in my chest, a need to interrupt and deliver my brilliant fix.
I jumped in too soon. I gave the solution.
The silence after I spoke was heavy. She just looked at me and said, “I don’t need you to fix it. I just needed you to hear me.”
That hit me hard. I realized that my need to "fix" her problem was really just my own internal discomfort with her pain. I wasn’t serving her; I was serving my own anxiety.
I learned that stillness is a tool of a powerful man. My real strength isn’t in my ability to solve the equation fast. It’s in my ability to be present and hold space for another person.
When you refuse to fix, you offer something deeper: connection.
We are here to evolve, and that includes evolving the way we show up for our relationships. Sometimes, the most disciplined action we can take is closing our mouth and letting a brother (or anyone you care about) finish his thought. That's how we build trust. That’s brotherhood in action.
1. Where in your life are you mistaking "fixing" for true support?
2. What would it feel like if you listened for five minutes today without offering a single piece of advice?
Your action today: Find someone you care about who needs to vent. Put your phone away. Give them your full attention for five minutes and practice saying nothing but "I hear you."