As I approach an important milestone in my men’s work journey, I’ve had ample opportunity to reflect on some of the things I’ve learned in conversation and connection with many incredible men, all of whom are at different stages on their own personal path.

The following is a distillation of some of the major themes I see, and represents an amalgam of hundreds of men with whom I have had the honour of spending time. No one individual is represented in this brief narrative. It doesn’t apply to all men, but my experience suggests the exceptions prove the rule.

It is by no means exhaustive, nor does it get into the reasons behind all of them. That’s the work of each individual man.

Here we go.

Men are carrying a burden virtually no one sees, including other men.

The weight men carry cannot be underestimated. Much of it is imposed by society, yet a significant portion is also self-imposed because of how we’ve been raised. Elements such as duty, honour, responsibility, resilience and perseverance are important, but also come with a cost.

The biggest issue isn’t necessarily about the weight of it all, but that so many are conditioned to think that the only way to handle it all is to bear it alone. When we feel like we’re struggling, sadly, most ask, “Why am I the only one having a hard time with this?” as opposed to asking, “How can I share what I’m going through with others?” or “Can someone help me with this?” We only see everyone else’s shiny exterior through our own pain-filled lenses.

Empathy, here, goes a long way. Don’t be fooled by the outward appearance. There is often an unvoiced struggle taking place that few care to see.

Men want to understand and learn to articulate emotions, but not at the expense of our logical and problem-solving minds.

We’ve all heard the men who think emotions are for the weak or that talking about how you feel is for wusses. Interestingly, even the “hardest” of the guys I’ve sat with will concede that repression of emotions isn’t some “manly” choice, but rather a natural byproduct of never having learned how to connect with and/or articulate emotional expression safely.

Further, many are challenged (as opposed to invited) to connect with their emotional state while simultaneously having their logical or solution-based way of thinking attacked. They’re left feeling like this is an either/or decision. Change, or else.

Remember that emotional expression is a skill not unlike learning a new language and requires a level of introspection within an arena of safety that most men were never offered, taught how to engage in, or worse, were made fun of for trying. Where most see an unwillingness to engage, I see confusion and resistance based on a lack of skill and a lack of safety.

Men have been conditioned to see our value and worth derive from our economic output.

This one is huge. No matter how soberly or logically we “know” this not to be true, there is an ingrained belief that our worth in this world is directly tied to how much we make and how many trappings of wealth we can accumulate. It’s got its tentacles in us, deep. It isn’t about making up for physical shortcomings or all of the other wonderful things said about men. It often manifests as a visceral worry and panic that the world will judge us unworthy or that we’ll let the people we love the most down.

Disconnecting from this ingrained belief is among the hardest paths I’ve had to walk, myself and with those whom I have the honour of working alongside on their own journey. I would argue that there is no bigger obstacle to overcome than this.

Men like to “fix” not because we think you can’t, but because it gives us a sense of purpose.

No, we almost never think that because you can’t do it, I have to show you or explain it to you. It definitely comes across that way, no doubt. But the honest truth is that we’re looking for validation, to be seen as worthy and valuable, and yes, to pass on the little that we know to someone who might care enough to do something with it.

I get how it makes you feel, and I’m not here to try to say it doesn’t suck, but I am asking for just a wee bit of compassion the next time someone tries to fix something or offer an explanation that you don’t really need. Please recognize what might just be sitting under that offer… an ask to be accepted.

Men are scared. And that, to us, is scary.

Yes. I know some of you men will balk at this. But most of the men I work with are scared. Scared they won’t measure up. Scared of being abandoned (again). Scared someone better will come along. Scared they won’t have what it takes when the world gets hard. Scared they won’t be able to protect their family. Scared they’ll run out of money. Scared they’ll pass on all the shit we’re carrying to our children.

You know how I know? I’ve felt all of these things too. Some days I still do. I’d wager you do too. And the worst thing about this is that it can make us fearful of fear itself. When in reality, fear is what makes us great, because courage can’t exist without fear.

This is usually the time that the “yeah, but…” statements come out, or the comments about how “Oh, we’re supposed to feel bad for you now?” If you’ve read this and listened, you’ll realize we don’t want pity, but rather to feel valued and to be able to contribute in a meaningful way. We want to be heard. We want to feel safe. A lot like you do! While we might go about it in different ways, we’re not all that dissimilar in what we need. Those basic needs are the same for all of us.

I often get accused of being a “male apologist,” and while that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I would say I am an apologist for the potential of healthy, safe, connected, and loved men. Imagine what we could accomplish if we came together to solve problems and learn to not just accept one another, but also take the time to understand each person’s unique path?

My clients often hear me say, “It isn’t your fault that you’re this way, but it is your responsibility to do something about it.” So, let’s get to work.