Modern Expectations Poem by Lehlonolo J Tshukudu

They told me
a man is a mountain.

Unshaken.
Unbreakable.
A thing that stands
even when the sky is falling apart.

So I tried…

God knows I tried
to turn my bones into stone,
to silence every tremble
that made me feel human.

I swallowed my fears
like they were sins.

Choked down my doubts
like weakness had a taste
and I wasn't allowed to spit it out.

Because men don't break…

Right?

That's what they said.

But nobody talks about
what happens
when the mountain starts collapsing
from the inside.

No one prepares you
for the quiet landslides.

The ones that don't make noise—
just shift everything
until nothing feels stable anymore.

I became a structure
held together by expectations.

A building
with no foundation of its own.

Every brick laid by voices
that never had to live in my skin.

"Be stronger."
"Do more."
"Provide."
"Endure."
"Don't feel too much."
"Don't fall behind."

So I ran.

Ran until my worth
felt like a finish line
I could never reach.

Ran until exhaustion
started sounding like purpose.

Ran until I forgot
what I was even chasing.

And somewhere along the way…

I lost the man
I was supposed to become.

Because I wasn't living—
I was performing.

Wearing strength
like armor
that was slowly cutting into me.

Smiling like everything was fine
while something inside me
was begging to be seen.

But who listens
when a man is drowning silently?

Who notices
when the provider
can't afford to fall apart?

So I carried it.

All of it.

The pressure.
The fear.
The quiet shame
of not being "enough"
in a world that keeps raising
the definition of a man
like a bar I was never built to reach.

And yeah…

I failed.

Not loudly.
Not dramatically.

Just… slowly.

Like a candle
that doesn't get blown out—
it just disappears
into its own melting.

I failed in ways
no one could clap for.

Failed to be everything
they told me I had to be.

Failed to feel proud
of the man in the mirror.

Failed to believe
that I was enough
without proving it first.

And the worst part?

No one teaches you
how to grieve
the version of yourself
you never became.

So now I stand here…

Not a mountain.

Not a king.

Not even the man
they said I should be.

Just a human
with tired hands
and a heart
that learned how to beat
under pressure.

And maybe…

maybe that's the truth
they never told us.

That being a man
isn't about never breaking—

It's about carrying the pieces
and still choosing
not to disappear.