Olalekan Adebumiti
It is easy to be laid back when someone else is driving the car.
It is easy to look out the window, comment on the scenery, and be “chill” when you don’t have to watch the road, check the GPS, or worry about the fuel light blinking red.
Right now, you are driving the relationship. Because he is such a relaxed passenger, you assume he is a calm person. But you aren’t asking if he’s a good passenger. You are asking if he can ever take the wheel.
This fear wakes you up at 4 AM. It isn’t about whether he is a nice guy; you know he is. This fear is about survival. You stare at the ceiling, and a terrifying question forms: If I stopped rowing the boat, would we just drift out to sea?
You are terrified that his “laid-back” nature isn’t a personality trait, but a lack of capability. You are right to be scared.
Then, there is a massive difference between a man who is calm in a storm and a man who ignores the storm until the roof blows off. Let’s see.
Are You Confusing Stoicism with Avoidance?
Women are taught to want the strong, silent type from the belief that a man who doesn’t panic is a rock. But you need to look closer at that rock. Is he standing firm against the waves, or burying his head in the sand?
Stoicism is active. A stoic man feels stress, assesses danger, and chooses calm so he can lead. He says, “I see the problem, and here is the plan.”
Avoidance is passive. An avoidant man ignores stress because he doesn’t know how to handle it. He says, “It’ll be fine,” hoping that if he ignores it long enough, you will fix it.
You have seen the signs. When a high bill arrives, does he budget, or toss it aside and turn on the Xbox? When you talk about the future, does he engage or make a joke to change the subject?
His silence isn’t strength. It is fear dressed up as chill. You cannot build a foundation on fear.
The “It Will Be Fine” Trap
“Relax, babe. It’ll be fine.”
He says it when you worry about your career, the future or his health. At first, it feels reassuring. You think, He’s so optimistic. He trusts the universe.
But eventually, you realise “it’ll be fine” is code for “I am not going to do anything about this.”
It is magical thinking. He believes things work out because they always have. But he forgets why they worked out. They worked out because his parents fixed them, or because you fixed them.
You make the dentist appointments. You check the savings. You ensure the car is legal. He walks through life believing problems solve themselves.
This guy isn’t laid back; he is freeloading on your anxiety. You worry so he doesn’t have to. That isn’t a partnership; that is parasitism.
Can He Handle a Crisis?
Life is not always Sunday brunch. Eventually, winter comes. A pipe bursts. A parent gets sick. One of you loses a job. These moments define a marriage. This is where “chill” stops being cute and starts being dangerous.
Imagine the worst-day scenario. You have received terrible news. You are on the floor, unable to function. You need him to step up, make the calls and hold the house together.
Can he do it? Or will he stand there, awkward and panicked, waiting for you to tell him what to do?
If the thought of relying on him in a crisis turns your stomach, listen to that feeling. Your intuition is screaming that he is a fair-weather captain. He can sail when the water is glass, but when the wind picks up, he will look at you and ask, “What do we do now?”
And you will have to dry your tears and save the ship yourself.
The Fatherhood Question
If you want children, this is your biggest concern.
You think, He’ll be such a fun dad. And you are right. He will wrestle on the carpet and let them eat ice cream for breakfast. He will be the “Disney Dad.”
But who will be the bad cop? Who enforces bedtimes, ensures homework is done, and researches schools? You will.
If he is too laid back to lead, you are forced to become the disciplinarian. You become the “nagging mum” while he is the “cool dad.” You say “no” while he shrugs, undermining your authority to avoid the hassle of a tantrum.
You will resent him. You will hate that he enjoys the fun parts of parenting while you handle the admin. You will look at him playing games with your son and realise you have two children, not a partner.
A Question About Respect for Him
This is the hardest truth. Women can love a man they don’t respect, but they cannot desire him.
Respect comes from competence. It comes from knowing that if the world fell apart, he could rebuild it.
When you have to remind him to renew his passport or tell him how to dress for an interview, you chip away at that respect. You start to see him as a boy.
Once you see him as a boy, the dynamic shifts. You become the Head of Household. You make the decisions, carry the keys, and hold the map.
He might be happy with this. Many men want a mother-figure to organise their lives. But are you happy with it? Do you want to spend the next forty years being the only adult in the room?
The Burden of the Captain
Being the captain is exhausting. It means you never truly rest. Even on holiday, you are checking flight times. Even asleep, you are listening for the danger he won’t hear.
You crave a man who can take the burden. You crave a man who says, “I’ve got this. Go to sleep.” You crave it because you have been strong for so long that your bones are tired.
You want to surrender control, but you can’t surrender to someone who doesn’t know how to lead. That isn’t surrender; that’s negligence.
So you hold on tighter. You become controlling and rigid. And he asks, “Why are you so stressed? Just chill out.”
He doesn’t understand you are stressed because he is chilled out. The see-saw only balances if you both sit in the middle. If he jumps off, you crash.
What Would You Rather Do?
There is no easy answer. You cannot force a man to grow up. Leadership must be taken, not given.
If you hand him the wheel and he crashes, that is on him. If you never hand him the wheel because you are afraid he might crash, that is on you.
So, here is the test. Stop steering, stop rowing.
Stop reminding him. Stop fixing little problems. Stop shielding him from consequences. Let the bill go unpaid. Let him miss the train. Let him feel gravity.
Watch what happens. Does he panic and blame you? Does he crumble? Or does he finally wake up and grab an oar?
You need to know now. Right now, the worst that happens is a late fee. Ten years from now, it could be your sanity.
You can love a passenger. You can have fun with a passenger. But you cannot build a life with one. Eventually, you need a co-pilot. Make sure he knows how to fly.
All the best, dear.
