Why Men Don’t Need to Fix Everything:

The Power of Patience and Holding Space

Growing Up Without Fixing

I didn’t grow up in a home where we fixed things. If something broke, we called someone. We paid someone. And then we moved on. There was no learning curve, no lessons in repair, and no sense of accomplishment from solving a problem. We outsourced the inconvenience and moved on with our lives.

Learning to fix things as an adult has been empowering. Just the other day, I repaired a door frame my dog had chewed up. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt good. There was a problem, I solved it, and it was done. Fixing things gives closure, a sense of control. But not everything in life can be fixed. Not everything is meant to be fixed. And that’s a hard truth to accept—especially for men.

When Fixing Isn’t the Answer

My youngest son struggles to fit in. He’s sensitive, thoughtful, and emotionally deep. He’s a dancer surrounded mostly by girls and doesn’t know how to connect with the boys. Middle school is brutal. For a boy who doesn’t fit the mold of “one of the guys,” it can be isolating and painful.

Watching him struggle, my first instinct was to fix it. I met with teachers and guidance counselors, trying to change the context. I taught him strategies to navigate social situations. I searched for that magic tool to take away his pain. But nothing worked. I desperately wanted to take away his suffering. I wanted him to feel accepted and safe. But I couldn’t fix it. It wasn’t mine to fix. It was his.

That’s when I realized that what he needed wasn’t a solution. He needed me to listen. To be present. To hold space for his pain without trying to take it away. This realization was as freeing as it was painful. It required me to set aside my need to fix and instead just be there, fully present with his struggle.

When My Son Cried, I Wanted to Fix It

As my son sat on his bed, tears streaming down his face, everything in me wanted to make it better. I wanted to fix it. I wanted his pain to go away. I wanted to protect him, to fight his battles for him, to do whatever it took to stop his suffering. But I couldn’t. Because it’s not mine. It’s his.

In that moment, I realized the most loving thing I could do was to sit there with him. To hold his suffering, not to take it away but to carry it with him. Withholding the urge to fix it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It took tremendous willpower not to swoop in and make it all better.

But that was my act of service. That was my act of love. By holding space for his suffering, I was empowering him to face his pain, to learn how to bear his own burdens, to grow strong enough to carry them. I wasn’t saving him. I was loving him. And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing to do.

Patience: An Act of Love

The word patience comes from the Latin pati, which means suffering. Patience is about bearing the burden of someone else’s pain without trying to take it away. True masculinity isn’t about fixing or solving. It’s about holding space. It’s about allowing others to struggle, grow, and find their own way.

That takes strength. It takes courage. It’s an act of love. It’s about learning to hold suffering—for yourself and for those you love. To bear the burden without needing to take it away. To allow others the space they need to work through their own struggles, to find their own solutions, to become resilient.

That’s what true men do. They hold the suffering. They bear the burden. They don’t try to solve what isn’t theirs to solve. They stand beside those they love, offering presence, not answers. It’s the harder path but the truest expression of love.

Bearing the Burden as an Act of Love

It takes strength to carry someone else’s pain without needing to remove it. It takes courage to be present with someone in their suffering without trying to solve it. This is not weakness; it is an act of love.

When we bear the burden of another’s pain, we are saying, “I see you. I hear you. And I am here with you.” We are giving them the greatest gift of all—our presence. It’s tempting to fix because fixing is action. It feels productive. It makes us feel useful, needed, and competent.

But when we try to fix what is not ours to fix, we rob the other person of the opportunity to grow, to learn, and to become resilient. We deny them the gift of their own struggle. We take away their agency. Holding space is not passive. It is the most active form of love there is. It requires strength, patience, and humility.

Patience becomes an act of service. Suffering becomes an act of love. And the presence we offer becomes the greatest gift we can give.

Man Uprising: Bearing the Burden Together

This is a fundamental principle in Man Uprising Peer Groups. We do not tell each other what to do. We do not fix each other’s problems. Instead, we come together to go deeper into ourselves and rise up in the second half of life.

We share our experiences, our struggles, and our victories. We hold space for one another, listening as an act of love, bearing the burden together. We understand that true strength isn’t about fixing each other. It’s about standing shoulder to shoulder, holding the suffering, and walking through it together.

This is how we serve. Not by solving. Not by saving. But by showing up. By being there. By loving each other enough to let each man find his own way. This is what it means to rise up. This is the power of presence. This is the strength of true masculinity.

And sometimes, that’s the most powerful thing a man can do.