By Bailey Buckles
When was the last time you heard a man say to his wife or partner, “I love you” out loud? Not in wedding vows. Not at their partner’s funeral. But in everyday moments in between. For too many men and boys, the answer is almost never.
When you think about professional football, the words that come to mind are power, toughness, and grit. You don’t often think of friendship bracelets. From the very beginning, Kelce chose tenderness. He sat with his teammates making friendship bracelets, stringing beads together with his phone number hidden inside one just for Taylor Swift. When he didn’t get the chance to give it to her at her concert, he went on his podcast and asked her out anyway, publicly, and with humor. Think about that: One of the best tight ends in the NFL risked rejection, and he did it with openness instead of bravado.
For generations, boys have grown up rarely seeing men do this.
Rarely do they hear men say “I love you.”
Rarely do they see men grieve openly.
Rarely do they watch men show tenderness without apology.
Instead, boys are taught:
- If you’re too kind, you’ll be taken advantage of.
- If you grieve, you’re weak.
- After heartbreak, bury the pain, get over it, “let’s go to the club.”
The Man Box has a cost: isolation, disconnection, loneliness. Justin Yong, a New York City psychotherapist specializing in men’s issues, shared an experience he had working in an all-boys school in a recent article. He described how the boys often subjected themselves to grueling workouts and unsustainable grooming practices in order to take on a hypermasculine persona because they thought displaying images of strength and attractiveness would prevent them from being rejected by their peers. Yong explained, “…what they were really saying is, ‘I’m scared of being heartbroken. I’m sad, I’m lonely.” The opposite of love is not strength; it’s loneliness. And our boys deserve so much more than that.
The opposite of love is not strength; it’s loneliness. And our boys deserve so much more than that. – Tony Porter
Kelce is modeling something different. On the field, he is all aggression, grit, and toughness. Off the field, he is unashamed to be in love. That duality tells boys a truth they rarely hear: toughness and tenderness don’t cancel each other out; they complete each other. And this isn’t just about football. Every man knows the challenge of turning off the toughness and hardness that work and life sometimes demand. But what about the importance of being present at home? Showing up in love is what grounds us, heals us, and gives us life.
According to an article in USA Today, mental health experts agree it’s vital for men and boys to understand that showing emotion can positively contribute to their own mental wellness. And an added bonus? Long-lasting relationships. Too often, men who love openly are dismissed as “simps.” But how can joy be weakness? How can laughter, affection, or devotion ever be a flaw? Our boys need to hear us say “I love you” often. They need to see us hug, cherish, grieve, and celebrate. They need us to break the silence that has kept too many men lonely for too long.
Travis Kelce may not have set out to be that message, but he is sending it anyway. Because love is not weakness, love is courage. It is strength. It is what makes us whole.
And our boys deserve nothing less.