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We all know that men tend to keep quiet about their mental health. There’s a constant pressure to avoid anything that they feel could make them look weak, or affect their sense of masculinity.  

Even when dealing with really terrible things, men are trying so hard to keep up this macho exterior. In sessions, I often hear men who have brought up seriously traumatic, horrifying experiences they’ve been through apologise for being upset, or for crying. That makes me really sad to see, every time – there’s so much guilt and shame attached to being hurt. 

In general, and of course this isn’t everyone’s experience, women tend to feel more able to speak about their feelings, and analyse with friends and loved ones how their experiences have affected them. Men don’t always do that as much – they’re more likely to be like ‘yeah, it’s fine’ and then…it’s not fine. The people in my life who I’ve lost to suicide were men, and you wouldn’t know it was coming – they’re just there one day and then they’re gone.  

Men are almost three times as likely as women to die by suicide, with men who’ve experienced recent or childhood trauma being particularly vulnerable. Meanwhile, access to mental health support reduces the risk of suicide by more than half, which indicates that the space to speak about and process trauma can be a major factor. 

With these horrific things people go through, speaking about it is a big part of healing, and when there’s so much shame attached, there may not be room to do that. That’s often what people are looking for when they reach out for support, and it’s something which needs to change in our society – the stigma around emotional vulnerability hurts so many people. 

In my experience working with men dealing with the impacts of trauma, it’s about being there for what they need right now, whatever that looks like, and building a relationship where they can feel safe. If what they need is practical support, we do practical support. It can be really hard to build even the basics of routine with PTSD, and that’s something we work on as often as we talk about feelings – how to get back some structure and stability. We might talk about feelings, but equally they might not be ready to go there yet – it has to be at their own pace. 

Obviously, in my job I’m working with people who’ve already taken that step of deciding to speak about their feelings, but even so, a lot of men I work with really have to be encouraged to start support once they get in touch. Asking for help is one of the toughest battles for a lot of people – it’s normal to feel apprehensive or anxious even after you’ve made the initial step. 

If you’re already struggling with low self-esteem or you feel like your problems don’t matter, and then you don’t make it to an appointment and nobody follows up, it can really knock you back. It takes a lot of courage and a lot of willpower to seek support, and so when someone comes to me for support, I think it’s important to follow up a couple of times, check in, make sure I’m doing everything I can to make it feel comfortable, safe, and less overwhelming. The important thing is to meet someone where they’re at, because they need to know that their feelings matter enough for me to make time for them.  

It’s probably not just men – everyone feels more cared about when someone puts the work in to reach out and say ‘hey, this is important and I want to make space for it’, and ‘if you’re nervous, let me know, I’ll see what I can do.’ Part of that macho shell people put up around themselves is ‘ugh, if you don’t care, I don’t care, whatever’ – it’s some of my job to make space for their experiences and pain to matter. 

When it comes to making things better, men helping each other is a big one. The most important thing we can do to help men heal is to get rid of the stigma – the idea that to be a “real man” you always have to be okay, to have it together. When someone’s talking about being harmed, abused or assaulted, it’s not ‘just life’. It’s not ‘just what happens’. It isn’t life and it shouldn’t be happening, it’s horrific and terrible. 

If you’re a man and another man – your brother, your pal, your dad, your grandad, your son – opens up to you, don’t shrug it off or minimise it. Especially when we’re talking about terrible experiences like rape, abuse or sexual violence, it’s tempting to try and rationalise it or make it seem less horrifying. But that can easily be very trivialising. Instead, try, ‘I’m so sorry that happened to you, and I’m here to talk.’

It can be scary at first, but let them open up – give them the space to be angry, hurt, confused, or sad. There’s not enough compassion in the world, so let the people you love know you’re there for them. 

When men cry in front of me in sessions, it’s all, ‘sorry, sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.’ They could have told me some of the most horrifying experiences they’ve been through, and they’ll still be apologising for being upset. It’s so important to say that it’s okay to cry. Not just for me and other support workers, for everyone – don’t say, ‘oh no, don’t cry, don’t cry!’ – crying is good for us! I get that people think it’s embarrassing to cry, but if you need it, why not? Crying can help you express and feel things that are too much for words. You feel better after a good cry. 

Men are often pushed to avoid showing those kinds of emotions, but if you can’t express your feelings, they’ll come out in ways that are harder to control – anger, outbursts, excessive spending, substance use, depression. That shame and stigma can make people afraid to express their hurt and vulnerability, even when those feelings find another way out that ends up being much less healthy or very destructive. When you don’t express your pain, sometimes it can push you towards things that end up really hurting you and other people, and that can become a vicious cycle – but it doesn’t have to happen like that. We know that, whoever you are, if you don’t have room to feel and process your feelings, things often go wrong – that’s why everybody needs a safe space to open up.