I'm someplace between wanting to post this to /r/relationships and /r/offmychest but i think you guys might be the most receptive. I'm not looking for relationship advice or seeking comfort.. i just wanted to share this with other men. I don't even know why. The act of sharing anonymously feels therapeutic on its own, i guess.

Anyhow...My wife said this to me last night. Stone faced and cold. We have a running problem in our relationship... I come from an overly clean household and her family were pretty much hoarders.

When our house gets messy, my stress level goes up. When i was little my mother would yell at me to clean up and the act of cleaning was not an enjoyable thing, but simply to remove the threat of my mother's wrath. As i got older there never developed a desire to clean for satisfaction of being clean and orderly, simply to remove inner anxiety. My mother is a sweet woman and this is simply old scarring... but it is still there. I don't fault her for it.

My wife had the opposite experience. Her parents were hoarders. At one point in her childhood she had to "move into the guest bedroom" for a period of 6 months because her room was so messy you couldn't open the door. It took that long for her parents to clean it out enough to get in there. The rest of the house was always a nightmare. For my wife, the mess was not "stuff" but was a part of her like a part of her body/soul/essence and throwing out something was like chopping off a finger. Through all this, however.. she didn't like it and idolized houses that were immaculate (e.g. expensive-modern furniture magazine photos). It was one reason she was attracted to me. My living space was always like this.

Living together, i clean after myself frequently... i hate doing it and usually complain my head while doing it.. but I do it. The anxiety only goes away when i'm done and I look around and see a scenario which would have been "acceptable" when i was a kid. My wife walks into a room and is like a walking hurricane. Tired from work there is a trail from the front door to the bedroom of clothing, papers, keys, mail.. everything. The problem is that TOUCHING IT is like I'm cutting off her fingers. She freaks out and gets progressively more upset the more I clean.

In my head my mother is yelling at me for the mess and in front of me my wife is yelling at me for cleaning the mess. I feel like i suffer mini-nervous break downs.

Last night I hit a point where I just cracked. I tried to clean up a massive mess my wife had accumulated over a week and lashed out at me verbally. I broke down.. i just sat on the ground where i stood.. and wept quietly for a few minutes starring at the ground. I felt lost, hopeless and helpless. I kept repeating in my head "if it will ever be clean, you must clean it." She walked out of the room and didn't say anything to me. I'm a maid... and an abused one at that. I don't feel like a man.

After a few minutes I was able to find my composure. I cleaned the room now that she was gone and went into the kitchen to make myself a meal. She was eating at the table and playing on her phone and when i walked past her she said it "Are you done crying, yet?" and i kind of just died inside. I walked past her in silence and grabbed something from the fridge and walked outside.

I sat in the sun with my peach and chunk of cucumber and just starred into the distance. If I was the woman in this scenario and she the man everyone would flip out. I'm not allowed to feel things though because I am a man. I'm not allowed to crack and express myself. I felt like i wanted to die. I felt trapped within myself and within my society. I didn't even feel like it was just her because I remembered this sentiment echoed by every women i know. There was no place to go and exist... i was not allowed to feel. I am supposed to be stone faced. I am supposed to be hardened and always with perfect composure. I am supposed to "man up" and blah blah blah. But the biggest thing... i'm not supposed to feel.

Later that evening she apologized. We made up and after some good sex, dinner out (on her) and some time talking it out.. we were good. But i wasn't good. I'm not good. I don't know if I'll ever be good. Many men are good with maintaining a hidden emotional response. I'm not. My father is more emotional than my mother and is more expressive. I take after him and even though I put up the best front I can.. I feel like I can't exist in my own skin. My wife's response was cold, but it isn't something I would consider abnormal. Every woman i've talked to over the years about this express being turned off by men expressing emotion this way. They are more attracted to men who are always "strong" and "in control" etc. My wife as well...

I don't like being this way. I don't like the world coming down on me and forcing me to suppress my emotions. I am lost. I don't know what i expect from all of you as you read this. I guess I just want you to read it. I know there is nothing that can change around me or within me and I know that our society (and worst yet... ourselves) do this to us. I just wish it was ok to cry. I wish I was allowed to be emotional because I AM. I don't want to be a blubbering mess all the time, but when I feel pain I wish it was ok to show it. I know that won't change. I just wish...

TLDR: I have an emotional break down over chores at home and my wife shows no sympathy at the time. When i regain composure she asks me if i'm "done crying" with a stone face. The permanence and hopelessness of being a man who is unable to express emotion gets to me leaving me feeling lost within my own skin.