JUST PUBLISHED: I Dated a Man Who Cried Constantly — Here’s Why It Gives Some Women the Ick

Unfortunately, it’s the latter that tends to give women the ick.

And before you think this is some bitter breakup rant—it’s not. Our split was mutual. He had good sides. He let me pick the movies first. He once drew me a comic book starring me as the main character. Early on, he even texted me a random poem (unprompted, not even for my birthday). And he genuinely tried to get along with my friends.

But still…the crying.

The Early Tears Were Sweet, Until They Weren’t

We met while I was interstate. I was meant to holiday for two weeks but ended up staying four because he was sweet and I enjoyed his company. Around week two, he cried while talking about his dad who’d passed away seven years earlier. Totally fair. Grief doesn’t have an expiry date.

In week three, he said he’d cry when I left. Again—endearing. A man in touch with his emotions. A rare and beautiful quality.

Then just before I flew home, we had “the talk” about whether to keep seeing each other. More tears. This time because he was scared—he’d never been in a relationship before.

I didn’t realise at the time that the early crying was foreshadowing.

The Cry Count Only Grew

We did long distance for four years—1.5 hours apart by plane. When he visited me, he stayed at my parents’ house. When I visited him, I stayed at his mum’s.

His family dynamic could’ve had its own Netflix docuseries. From day one, his mum told him he’d, “better not be planning on flying over to see me.” She left me notes like, “Do our washing.” Once, she straight up told him she couldn’t wait until I went home.

I told him I felt uncomfortable. His tears flowed. He said he couldn’t stand up for himself, let alone me.

Meanwhile, my parents took him out for dinner regularly. After the tenth, I suggested maybe he could offer to pay. Even a gestured wallet grab. He cried, said he might as well flush his money down the toilet and declared, “I’m just a little boy.”

After that performance…fair enough.

The Full Tantrum Arc

One weekend, we went away to a wine region. After a long day, I said I was heading back to our room for a bath but told him he could stay and play pool with some new friends we’d met.

He stayed out until 1am.

When I (admittedly a little dramatic myself) said I was upset—given how little time we got together—he burst into tears. Pulled out his phone. Pretended to book me a flight home. Then: face down on the bed, fists against the mattress.

I’ve cried over less. One time I got teary-eyed in a parking lot thinking about how teeny tiny those wiper blades on car headlights are, and how hard they have to work for being so little. Another time over a Google Doc. But still…

The Future Talk

Anytime we talked about the future—like whether one of us should move cities—the tears returned. While I was trying to workshop, he’d cry and say: “What makes you think I’m so worth it?”

And after the 47th teary conversation, fair question.

I eventually confided in my family about how often he cried. My mum, never one to sugar-coat, said: “It’s not going to work out. If you two have a baby, the baby will cry, then he’ll cry, and you’ll end up looking after two babies.”

At the time I laughed. But deep down… it stuck.

The Real Issue: The Crying Felt…Feminine

It wasn’t the fact he cried. It was the way he cried.

There’s a certain kind of male crying that feels grounded. Stoic even. The single tear. The quiet, lip-trembling, head-in-hands moment. UFC fighters crying after a win? Masculine. A mate holding it together until after the funeral? Understandable.

But when a man is lying on his stomach, sobbing into a pillow, fists thumping the bed, he doesn’t exactly trigger attraction. He triggers maternal instinct at best or full-body cringe at worst.

And research backs this up. Studies show that men who cry in traditionally “masculine” contexts—firefighters processing trauma, athletes after high-stakes moments—are perceived as emotionally strong. But men crying over relationship logistics, family drama or mild adult responsibilities? Society and biology tend to find them less appealing.

An international study even found that people with more traditional masculine gender roles are less likely to cry, and when they do, it’s tied to big, external, stress-heavy events—not everyday life spirals.

Say It With Your Chest, King

More recently, a guy from my gym started messaging me. I wasn’t interested, but I replied politely—short, bland answers. For days, he sent and unsent messages. I could still catch the preview before they disappeared.

Ick.

This was teenage girl behaviour. Confidence is attractive. Femininity in men is not. And unfortunately, it’s the latter that tends to give women the ick. Like crying for unmasculine reasons.

Women aren’t asking for emotionless robots. We just want emotional resilience. The kind that says: “This is hard, but I’ll handle it.” Not the kind that involves the ick.

He wasn’t a bad guy—just not my guy.

So yes, kings—cry. But maybe, cry like a grown-up.

Sidebar: When a Man Can Sob and Still Be Daddy

Winning a UFC fight

Losing a UFC fight

Witnessing a proposal at a UFC weigh-in

The dog dying (non-negotiable)

Funerals (yours, theirs, anyone’s really)

Watching David Attenborough narrate a baby turtle getting eaten by a seagull

A genuinely moving movie (Shawshank, Good Will Hunting, maybe Free Willy if you had attachment issues as a child)

Becoming a dad (tears allowed but must still cut the umbilical cord like a champ)

Losing a loved one

Being proud of your kid (especially at a sports final or school assembly)

Getting through something that almost broke you (financial ruin, near-death experience, fighting off a bear)

Realising there’s no McFlurry machine working at Macca’s after 10pm

Hearing your mate say “I love you, bro” for the first time at 2am, post-pub