By Ross Hendrickson

There was a moment early in my marriage when I thought I had made a breakthrough. My wife and I had been circling around the same disagreement for days, and she finally asked me, very directly, “How do you feel about all of this?”  I paused. I nodded. I furrowed my brow, leaned back in the chair, and said with absolute seriousness, “I feel like… I’d rather fix the garage door than keep having this conversation.” She stared at me, blinking.  I think I even added something like, “If I get the ladder now, there’s still daylight.”

The fact that we’re still married is proof of grace. And maybe some spiritual humor.  I share that story because it captures what I see so often in couples therapy. A moment arrives. A partner reaches out emotionally. And instead of meeting them there, the other partner does what I did. Deflects. Avoids. Retreats into a problem-solving project or a to-do list or the mysterious power of total silence.

And let’s be honest. It is often the man who does this. Not always. But often.  That’s why I call it emotional constipation. The feelings are there. You can see the discomfort. You can feel the tension. But nothing is moving.

Let’s start by clearing something up. Men are not unemotional. They are not broken or defective or born without the wiring for vulnerability. Most of the time, men feel deeply. But their emotional expression has been jammed up by years of messaging that says:

• “Toughen up”
• “Real men don’t cry”
• “Handle it yourself”
• “Talking about it makes it worse”

You can’t grow up swimming in those waters without absorbing a little of it into your skin. So when emotional moments come, many men freeze. Or deflect. Or get angry, which ironically feels safer than sad.

Couples come into therapy and one partner will say, “He never shares how he feels.” And he’ll respond with something like, “I don’t know what you want from me.” It’s not resistance. It’s confusion. And often, fear.

Think of emotional expression like a highway. When everything’s moving freely, you can name what’s happening inside and let it out in a way your partner can hear and understand. But for emotionally constipated partners, the highway looks more like downtown at rush hour.  There’s a 16-wheeler of childhood trauma in one lane.  A stalled-out vehicle of shame in another.  A construction zone of unspoken fear and inadequacy.  And somewhere in the mix is a beat-up pickup truck with a mattress tied to the roof and “everything’s fine” spray-painted on the back.  When you ask someone in that traffic jam to explain what they’re feeling, it’s not that they don’t want to. It’s that they can’t find the on-ramp.

There are patterns I’ve noticed after years of sitting with couples:

1. They never had language for emotion growing up.
   If your family didn’t talk about feelings, and you were rewarded for staying quiet or strong, vulnerability can feel foreign and unsafe.
2. They associate emotion with weakness or shame.
   Especially if sadness, fear, or disappointment was met with criticism or mockery in the past.
3. They genuinely don’t know what they feel.
   Emotional intelligence is not automatic. If no one ever helped you name your emotions, you’re left with a small toolbox trying to fix a complicated engine.
4. They fear saying the wrong thing.
   Many men will say, “If I share what I’m really thinking, it will just make things worse.” So they stay silent and hope it passes.

If you’re in a relationship with someone who is emotionally constipated, it can feel incredibly lonely. You might think things like:

• “Why do I always have to be the one to start the conversation?”
• “Is he even thinking about us?”
• “Why does it feel like pulling teeth to get anything out of him?”

You’re not being needy. You’re asking for connection. But it feels like knocking on a door that stays locked, even when you know someone is inside.  This is where resentment often builds. Not because one partner refuses to feel, but because the other partner starts to believe they are alone in the relationship.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “Okay great, so how do we fix it?”  Let’s talk about what actually helps couples shift out of this pattern.

1. Start with Safety
   Emotional expression only happens when someone feels safe. That means avoiding shaming language, sarcasm, or “you always” accusations. Replace “Why don’t you ever talk to me?” with “I really want to feel connected to you. I miss hearing what’s on your heart.”
2. Use Gentle Curiosity
   Ask open-ended questions without pressure. Instead of “What’s wrong with you?” try “What’s been weighing on you lately?” Let silence be okay for a moment. Give space without withdrawing.
3. Don’t Interrupt the Process
   If your partner starts to open up, avoid fixing, correcting, or rushing to resolution. Let the emotions breathe. Trust that naming them is part of the healing, not a detour from it.
4. Model Emotional Language
   Show them what it sounds like. Say things like “I feel overwhelmed today, but I think it’s because I’m afraid we’re drifting apart.” Vulnerability invites vulnerability.
5. Get Professional Support
   Sometimes the patterns are so deeply ingrained that outside help is necessary. Couples therapy is not just for crisis moments. It’s for creating new patterns. A good therapist can help bridge the gap between silence and connection.

If you see yourself in this, I want you to know something. You are not defective. You are not cold. You are not incapable of connection.  You’ve probably been carrying silent burdens for a long time. You’ve probably been told it’s noble to bottle things up, or at least safer than rocking the boat. But your silence doesn’t protect the people you love. It isolates them. And it isolates you.  Start small. Try naming just one thing. Even if it feels awkward. Even if it takes a few tries. You don’t have to become a poet. Just let your partner into the room where you keep everything locked away.

Because here’s the truth. Emotional constipation doesn’t just go away. It builds. And eventually, it spills out sideways. In sarcasm. In stress. In shutdown. Or in moments where you say, “I don’t know why I just snapped. I guess it all built up.”  There’s a better way. You don’t have to stay stuck.

Real intimacy is not about grand romantic gestures. It’s about the ordinary, vulnerable moments when you say, “I don’t have all the answers, but I want to be known. I want us to be okay.”  It’s the moment you sit on the couch, make eye contact, and say the three most underrated words in a marriage.  Not “I love you.”  Not “You were right.”  But “I feel sad.”  That’s how it starts.  That’s how the traffic jam clears.  That’s how you move again.