Under Grumpa's Hat

Some people give affection the way a lighthouse gives light. Easy. Steady. Natural. Then there are people like me, the ones who feel love deeply but struggle to let it spill out in ways others can see. The love is there, warm and loud on the inside, but it gets jammed somewhere between the chest and the mouth. Not a shortage of feeling, more like a mental bottleneck that refuses to clear on command.

From the outside, this can be wildly confusing. If you have no problem speaking your heart, it might seem impossible to imagine why someone else would choke on something as simple as “I care about you.” You might think they are holding back on purpose. Or worse, that they do not feel anything at all.

Inside the mind of someone who loves but has trouble showing it, it looks nothing like that.

Imagine trying to squeeze through a door you have never been taught how to open. Every attempt feels clumsy and forced. You reach for affection the way someone reaches for a tool they have never used. Awkward grip. Wrong angle. Something slips. You try again. Maybe you get it right for a moment. Maybe you don’t.

People who express love easily often misinterpret this. They read the hesitation as disinterest. The silence as a lack of care. They might start wondering if they matter as much as they think they do. And that misunderstanding hurts them, sometimes deeply, because in their world, love is supposed to be visible. Clear. Reassuring. Immediate.

They forget that not everyone grew up in a home where affection was normal. Some of us were raised in houses where love was shown through chores done, rides given, bills paid, roofs fixed, and food left on the table without a word. Homes where feelings were like fine china. Kept somewhere safe, rarely used, almost never spoken of. When you grow up that way, affection becomes a second language you never got the chance to learn.

So when someone who thrives on affection meets someone who struggles with it, both sides can accidentally hurt each other. One feels rejected. The other feels like they are constantly failing a test they did not even know they were taking.

This is where expectations become dangerous.

When you expect someone to express love the same way you do, you are setting them up to disappoint you. Not because they don’t love you, but because you are asking them to sprint in a direction where they are still learning to walk. When you assume that hesitation equals emotional laziness, you miss the quiet truth that they are fighting battles you cannot see. And when you mistake internal effort for an external lack of effort, you end up feeling unloved while they feel unworthy.

If you love someone who struggles to show affection, the most important thing you can do is remember this: their love may not always look the way you want it to, but that does not mean it is any smaller or weaker. Sometimes, the person who struggles is the one who loves the hardest, because every expression costs them something. Every gesture is a climb. Every vulnerable moment is a small personal victory.

That does not mean you should lower your needs until you disappear. Just adjust the angle. Instead of expecting perfection, look for progress. Instead of waiting for grand gestures, notice the subtle ones. The tiny attempts. The moments when they stretch slightly beyond their comfort zone. Those moments are not crumbs. They are courage.

And if you are the one who struggles to show love, well, you know the frustration better than anyone. You know the feeling of wanting to say something soft but defaulting to something safe. You know the guilt that creeps in when your partner or loved one looks hurt because you froze at the wrong time. You know the embarrassment of trying to open up and feeling like you wobbled on emotional training wheels.

You also know the slow progress. Some days you get it right. Some days you retreat back into the familiar silence. Old habits are powerful. They are warm. They are predictable. They are the emotional recliner your mind sinks into when life feels overwhelming.

But progress rarely happens in a straight line. Growth is messy. A few steps forward. A couple sideways. Occasionally you trip and land face first in the same spot you tried so hard to leave behind. That does not mean you are broken. It means you are human.

Here is the good news. It is worth working on. The people close to you deserve to hear what sits inside your heart, and you deserve to feel the relief of letting it out. You do love them. You know that. You always have. And while words are often called “easy,” for someone like you, they are anything but. Yet sometimes words can be enough, at least for now, especially when they are offered honestly, even if awkwardly.

And one day, with patience, and practice, and a few uncomfortable emotional push-ups, the words and actions begin to match the feelings inside. Not perfectly. Not on command. But enough to show the people who matter that they truly matter.

Love does not always come out smoothly. Sometimes it stumbles. Sometimes it mumbles. Sometimes it arrives late, looking a bit lost. But when it is real, it is worth the work. And the people you love are worth every attempt you make to let your heart speak in a way they can finally hear.