Stop Pretending You Don’t Want It
There’s a quiet cruelty a lot of us practice on ourselves.
Not the loud kind. Not the dramatic kind.
The small kind.
The kind where you decide you don’t want something before life gets the chance to tell you no.
You shrink the desire before anyone else can see it.
You call it unrealistic before somebody else can.
You laugh it off. You explain it away. You become “practical.”
And eventually, if you do it long enough, you stop noticing you’re doing it at all.
You just walk around carrying this low-grade hunger.
Not enough to knock you over.
Just enough to make life feel flatter than it should.
Especially for men.
Especially for gay men.
Especially for those of us who learned early that wanting too much could cost us something.
Wanting love could get you rejected.
Wanting friendship could make you seem needy.
Wanting adventure could seem irresponsible.
Wanting attention could feel embarrassing.
Wanting to be seen could feel dangerous.
So instead, we become experts at acting full.
We tell ourselves we’re fine staying home.
Fine keeping things casual.
Fine not starting the business.
Fine not booking the trip.
Fine not sending the message.
Fine not taking the photo.
Fine not letting anyone get too close.
And maybe sometimes we are.
But sometimes… we’re not.
Sometimes the thing underneath isn’t contentment.
It’s hunger with better PR.
I think one of the bravest things you can do in life is admit what you actually want.
Not what sounds reasonable.
Not what sounds mature.
Not what other people would approve of.
What do you want?
Do you want more connection?
Do you want a body you stop apologizing for?
Do you want to travel?
Do you want community?
Do you want to fall in love again?
Do you want to feel attractive?
Do you want more laughter?
Do you want to feel alive?
Wanting things is risky.
I know.
It opens you up to disappointment.
To rejection.
To looking foolish.
To reaching for something that might not reach back.
But there’s another risk nobody talks about.
Pretending you don’t want things long enough that one day you forget how.
That’s the quieter loss.
That’s the one that doesn’t leave a dramatic story.
Just years that felt… smaller than they needed to be.
So here’s what I want for you this week:
Tell yourself the truth.
Even if nobody else hears it.
Even if you don’t act on it yet.
Just stop arguing with your own appetite.
You don’t have to justify wanting more.
You don’t have to earn desire.
And you do not have to spend your life pretending you’re full.
