Real men cry
Real men cry. From a young age, however, we’ve been bombarded with the same message over and over: “Boys don’t cry.” This message is ingrained in every aspect of our society, from boys with scraped knees playing football, to teenagers facing rejection from a crush, to young professionals in a cutthroat corporate culture, and even through mid-life crises. We’re expected to just “man up” and take it all.
Growing up, I was in a similar path: told to toughen up, not to cry, to conquer rather than express. I grew up in a loving family, but we were simply a product of the society we lived in, that believed in this narrative.
As boys transition into men, we lack venues to share and understand our emotions, leading us to bottle them up. We feel lost, lonely, and with the knowledge that no one understands us. We can’t be seen being vulnerable, with doubts, because those are signs of weakness. And our society is ruthless with non-confident men. According to a study by the American Psychological Association*, men are less likely than women to seek help for mental health issues, which is a consequence of this stigma.
We’re conditioned to embody the archetype of the “alpha” male—confident, unyielding, self-reliant. Society glorifies power and strength, portraying them as the magnets that attract admiration, followers, and even romantic partners. As a consequence, in both platonic and romantic relationships, we, men, don’t share our emotions because we want to be an attractor of admiration, followers, and partners.
However, this narrative causes loneliness, depression, and a profound inability to connect authentically. The isolating effects of events like the pandemic have only magnified these issues, leaving many men struggling in silence. A simple Google search will return an alarming number of results on this topic, some even calling it an epidemic.
How do we get out of it? How do we, men, break free of this narrative and find connection?
With difficulty.
Connection flourishes through authenticity, not emotional armour; through vulnerability, not the facade of strength; through empathy, not domination. These are qualities and skills that have been brainwashed away from us by societal norms.
Embracing these qualities is difficult and requires courage. Yet, it’s the only way to build deeper, more meaningful relationships and overcome loneliness.
To my fellow men, I say: It’s okay not to be okay.
Let’s shatter the stigma that equates vulnerability with weakness. Seeking therapy can provide a safe space to explore our emotions. Men’s circles offer supportive spaces to share experiences. Simply initiating deeper conversations with friends can be a powerful step towards healing and genuine connection.