If I talk to a man about a problem I have, I won’t listen to “what” he is saying until I feel that he has empathised with my problem, that he has “felt my pain”. This is daft, but is the flip side of Boeciana’s famous earnest phone lecture to Aelianus on How To Talk With Distraught Women.  I need a lecture on How To Listen To Men When You Are Distraught. Just because A N Bloke hasn’t gone “mmm, yeah, oh that must be hard, I see that you must be very worried” for ten minutes, doesn’t mean he’s not sympathetic or helpful or doesn’t understand.