There’s still a huge stigma around men’s mental health in the UK, especially when it comes to showing vulnerability or asking for help.
We’ve all heard the phrase “man up.”
It’s thrown around like advice, but really, it’s a warning. A warning to shut up, toughen up, and get on with it.
But what happens when we take that advice too seriously? What happens to men who’ve been holding things in for years — or even decades?
That’s what I want to talk about today.
The Silent Struggle
Many men are suffering in silence. Not because they don’t feel, but because they’ve learned to hide their feelings so well that even they start to forget they exist.
It’s not that men don’t want to talk — it’s that many of us have been trained not to.
From a young age, boys are taught to be strong. Crying is seen as weakness. Fear, sadness, and vulnerability are either ignored or punished. Somewhere along the line, we pick up the message: emotions are dangerous, or worse, unmanly.
The Pressure to Be “The Strong One”
Men often carry the unspoken pressure to be the rock — the provider, the protector, the one who doesn’t crumble no matter what.
But this expectation becomes a prison. When you’re always expected to hold it together, there’s no space to fall apart. And if you do? You feel like a failure.
That internal pressure is exhausting. It isolates. And for many, it leads to depression, rage, addiction, or shutting down emotionally altogether.
Fear of Being Judged
One of the biggest reasons why men don’t talk about their feelings is the fear of being judged, especially in cultures where showing emotion is seen as weak or unmanly. Let’s be honest — some men don’t open up because they’re scared of being judged.
Not just by strangers, but by friends, partners, even other men. There’s still a stigma around men showing emotion. Vulnerability is too often mistaken for weakness. And for a lot of guys, the fear of being laughed at or dismissed is enough to keep everything bottled up.
Lacking the Words
Here’s something we don’t talk about enough: a lot of men simply don’t know how to express their emotions.
We’re fluent in anger, irritation, maybe humour — but fear, sadness, shame? No one taught us the words for those. So even when a man wants to talk, he might not know where to start.
It’s like being stuck in a country where you don’t speak the language. You feel everything — but can’t explain it.
Therapy as a Last Resort
Many men still see therapy as something you only do when you’re on the brink.
By the time some men show up in therapy, they’ve hit rock bottom. Relationships have broken down, or the pain is no longer possible to ignore. It’s not always that men don’t believe in therapy — it’s just that for years, they were taught to “sort it out themselves.”
That DIY attitude has its place, but it’s not how you heal emotional wounds.
The Extra Layer: Race, Culture and Silence
For men from ethnic minority backgrounds in Britain, the pressure to stay silent often runs even deeper. Black men and Asian men in Britain often face cultural barriers to therapy, as well as the added pressure of being stereotyped or misunderstood
It’s not just about being a man — it’s also about navigating cultural expectations, racial stereotypes, and stigma within your own community. Talking about mental health, or admitting you're struggling emotionally, can feel like breaking an unwritten rule. In some families, it's not just discouraged — it’s taboo.
You might hear things like:
There's also the fear of being seen as weak or unstable, especially when society already stereotypes Black or Asian men as aggressive, dangerous, or emotionally cold. For many, showing vulnerability feels risky — not just socially, but sometimes even professionally or legally.
Intersectionality matters. Being a man is one thing. Being a Black man, an Asian man, or from a refugee or working-class background adds layers that are often ignored in mainstream mental health discussions.
Barriers We Don’t Talk About Enough
Even when men want to get help, there are real-world obstacles that can make it feel impossible.
1. Therapy Is Expensive
Let’s be real — private therapy can be costly. And while there are NHS options, long waiting lists, limited sessions, and inconsistent access can be off-putting. For many working-class men or those already struggling to make ends meet, therapy feels like a luxury they can't afford. The message becomes: “I can’t justify spending money on feelings.” Many working-class men avoid therapy because of the cost, long waiting lists, or simply because they were raised to believe they should just ‘get on with it.
2. Fear of Social Services
Especially for dads or men going through difficult breakups, there’s often a deep fear that if they talk openly about their mental health, someone might report them.
“I’ll lose access to my kids.”
“They’ll say I’m unstable.”
This fear can be paralysing. The idea that being honest about your struggles might get you labelled or flagged by authorities keeps many men silent — especially those from ethnic minority backgrounds who already feel over-scrutinised.
3. Work Can’t Find Out
There’s also the fear that if your boss or HR finds out you’re struggling, you’ll be treated differently.
Passed over for promotion. Seen as unreliable. Quietly pushed out.
The workplace still isn’t always a safe space for men to say, “I’m not okay.” Especially in male-dominated industries where the culture is “crack on” or “don’t be soft.”
4. Social Status and Pride
In a world where so much of a man’s value is tied to what he earns, what he drives, or how “together” he looks, admitting you’re struggling can feel like social suicide.
There’s a real fear of being seen differently — less competent, less respectable, less of a man.
So men protect their image. They wear the mask. Because taking it off feels too risky.
These aren’t excuses. They’re real concerns.
If we want more men to speak up and get support, we have to make it safe — emotionally, culturally, and practically.
Thinking About Therapy? Start Here, Mate
Look — if you’ve even thought about therapy, that’s a big step already. Most of us don’t even get that far. But if something’s been weighing on you, or you’re just tired of carrying it all alone, here are three solid first steps you can take — no pressure, no drama. Men’s emotional repression isn’t a personality flaw — it’s often a survival strategy shaped by family, culture, and the society we live in.
1. Be Honest With Yourself (Even If It’s Just in Your Head)
Ask yourself: “Am I really alright?”
Not the version you give your mates, your partner, or work — but the version you avoid when you're lying in bed at night or staring at the ceiling.
You don’t have to fix everything right now. Just admit to yourself that something doesn’t feel right. That honesty? It’s not weakness. It’s bravery.
2. Talk to Someone You Trust — Even Casually
You don’t need to start with a therapist. Just talk to someone. A mate, your partner, a sibling. You don’t even have to pour your heart out — something simple like:
“I’ve been thinking about talking to someone. I’m not feeling myself.”
It’s surprising how much lighter things feel once the words are out in the open.
3. Look Into It Without Committing
Finding the right therapist as a man can feel intimidating, especially if you don’t know what to expect or how to start. You don’t have to book anything yet. Just look.
Google local therapists. Check out platforms like the BACP, Therapy for Black Men, or Mind. This isn’t just about mental health — it’s about redefining masculinity and challenging the outdated idea that ‘real men don’t cry. Some therapists offer a free consultation — just a chat, no strings. You can ask questions like:
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What’s it like working with you?
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Do I have to talk about everything straight away?
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What if I don’t know what to say?
You’re allowed to shop around. Therapy isn’t about being fixed — it’s about feeling less alone in whatever you’re carrying. You don’t have to be falling apart to get help. You just have to be curious about how things could feel better.
And if no one’s told you lately: there’s nothing wrong with wanting peace. You deserve that.
Cassim
