Introduction to Men’s Mental Health
September is Suicide Prevention Month, a time to raise awareness and engage in crucial conversations about mental health. For me, it also marks the beginning of a pivotal chapter in my life—the final semester of my Master of Social Work program. As I curated my course load for the semester, I found myself 3 credits short. Rather than opting for a random elective, I decided to take a different route, one that aligns with my passion and purpose.
I reached out to a professor about the possibility of doing an independent study. Given her busy schedule, she initially hesitated, but after I shared my intentions—to write a book on men’s mental health, suicide, and grief—she agreed to guide me. This week, I embark on this journey, and with it, the writing of my next book.
The reason I’m sharing this with you is twofold. First, writing a book is an enormous undertaking, especially while managing the demands of a full course load. I realized that trying to write a book and maintain a weekly newsletter would be overwhelming. So, I’ve decided to combine the two projects.
Starting today and continuing over the next 13 weeks, I will be sharing with you what I am reading, writing, and reflecting on as I progress through this book. This isn’t just a way to keep you updated—it’s an invitation. I need your help. By making this writing process public, I hope to engage with you, my readers, and invite your thoughts, comments, reflections, and critiques. Together, we can craft a book that is not only insightful but also deeply resonant with the experiences and perspectives of those who care about men’s mental health.
Let’s Dive In
This week marks the beginning of the book and the start of our journey together. The focus is on the Introduction to Men’s Mental Health, guided by my reading of The Mask of Masculinity by Lewis Howes. Our discussion will center on societal expectations, masculinity, and their impact on mental health.
I look forward to your insights as we navigate these crucial topics together. Let’s create something meaningful—something that can make a difference in the lives of men everywhere.
Introduction to Men’s Mental Health
In embarking on this exploration of men’s mental health, I find myself at the intersection of personal grief, societal observation, and a profound desire to make sense of what it means to be a man in today’s world. This journey is not merely academic; it is rooted in the raw pain of loss and the subsequent search for meaning that has guided my transformation from a career in commercial real estate to one in social work. It is a journey watered by curiosity, nurtured by writing, and directed by a mission to bring to light the silent suffering that so many men endure.
The path that led me here was not one of choice but necessity. My grief, catalyzed by the tragic loss to suicide, became a crucible in which my purpose was forged. As I wrote to make sense of the turmoil within, I found not just solace but direction. Through this process of reflection and research, I uncovered the deep and often unspoken struggles that define men’s mental health today.
Societal Expectations
In The Mask of Masculinity, Lewis Howes identifies nine characteristics that society traditionally expects men to embody: stoic, athletic, materialistic, sexual, aggressive, funny, invincible, intellectual, and alpha. These traits form the societal blueprint for what it means to be a "man." If you are like me, these traits might not surprise you. They are ubiquitous, etched into the fabric of our social consciousness. For men, these expectations are not merely abstract ideals but lived realities, influencing every aspect of life from personal identity to social interactions. Women, too, are acutely aware of these characteristics, having witnessed and experienced the consequences of such societal expectations in their relationships with men.
The Construct of Masculinity
The reality of masculinity is that it is not a fixed, innate quality but a social construct, an idea that evolves to meet the needs of society at a given time. While this concept may be unsettling to some, it is crucial to understand that masculinity has always adapted to fit societal needs. Historically, traits such as stoicism, athleticism, and materialism emerged from practical necessities—stoicism for the demands of war, athleticism for survival, and materialism for ensuring the welfare of one's family.
However, society is now at a crossroads. The traditional needs that shaped masculinity are evolving, and with them, the definition of what it means to be a man. Today, the demand is not for physical strength or emotional suppression but for emotional intelligence. Masculinity is being called to redefine itself, to embrace vulnerability, and to foster meaningful relationships.
This redefinition is not without tension. As Richard Reeves highlights in Of Boys and Men, we face a societal stalemate: “The left wants you to be more like your sister, and the right wants you to be more like your father.” Similarly, Howes observes the conflict between the “get in touch with your feminine side” rhetoric and the alpha male mentality. Both perspectives reveal a dissatisfaction with the current conversation around masculinity, which often fails to acknowledge the complex realities men face today.
Scott Galloway, a prominent public speaker and author, provides a useful framework for understanding the evolution of masculinity. He suggests that the roles men have traditionally filled—protector, provider, and servant—are still relevant, but they now require a new approach. The Carnegie Hero Fund, which awards civilians for acts of courage, is a testament to this enduring masculine ideal. In 2021, of the 71 medals awarded, 66 were given to men. This statistic underscores the deep-rooted societal expectation for men to protect, provide, and serve. However, to meet the challenges of today, masculinity must also address the emotional void that so many men experience.
The Impact on Mental Health
The mental and emotional toll of these evolving expectations is profound. Isolation, loneliness, and betrayal are among the most significant factors affecting men’s mental health today. These experiences are often exacerbated by societal pressures to conform to outdated notions of masculinity. However, by acknowledging the fluid nature of masculinity, we can begin to have a meaningful conversation about how to move forward.
The antidote to these issues lies in vulnerability, connection, and authenticity. The mask of masculinity, as Howes describes it, is just that—a mask. To live authentically, men must be willing to remove this mask, embrace their vulnerabilities, and seek help when needed. This requires humility, the courage to acknowledge one’s limitations, and the strength to reach out to others.
As we delve deeper into the complexities of men’s mental health, I leave you with a thought from Richard Reeves: “We can be passionate about women’s rights and compassionate about the suffering of boys and men.” This conversation is not an either/or proposition. We can draw inspiration from our female counterparts in redefining what masculinity requires today, without undermining the essence of what it means to be a man.
A Reason Why
Change, especially deep and meaningful change, often requires more than logic or explanation. It demands a reason, a catalyst that moves us from understanding to action. For many, this catalyst is rooted in experience—an experience so profound that it alters the course of one’s life. I, too, needed an experience to arrive at the place I find myself today, advocating for men’s mental health with a passion born from personal tragedy.
My reason why comes from the loss of my 16-year-old brother, Austin, to suicide. In the aftermath of that heartbreaking event, I grappled with anger, denial, bargaining, and sorrow before finally arriving at a place of acceptance. It was in this space of acceptance that I penned a letter to Austin—words that have come to embody the transformation I have undergone, and the mission I now pursue.
A Letter to Austin
Dear Austin,
Thank you for being my brother. I am thankful that our last memory together was your birthday. I am thankful that I vividly remember hugging you. It is beautiful that I felt that hug when I prayed for you. I know that you are holding me now. Thank you for letting me be your big brother. Thank you for letting me look after you. I am thankful that I have you to look after me now. When I am weak and tired, your memory gives me strength. We didn’t have the same passions but we had the same love for each other. Thank you for supporting me in everything I did by coming and watching and cheering. I can still feel that support and I forever have you to cheer me on.
I’m sorry for how I treated you. I’m sorry for the anger, impatience, and lack of support. I’m sorry for being angry at you. I don’t know why you did what you did, but I forgive you. I find comfort in knowing you have found rest. You have been made perfect and now live in paradise. I would not take that away from you for my selfishness. Thank you for your life, your brotherhood, and your love.
A Call to Change
Let this window into my experience be a reason for you to consider change in your own life, so that you may not have to endure the same pain I have faced. If you are struggling, if you feel isolated or overwhelmed by societal expectations, know that change is possible before it becomes a necessity born of tragedy.
To those who have experienced a loss like mine, I see you. Your pain is valid, your grief is real, and your journey toward healing is not one you must walk alone.
To those who have felt the way my brother Austin did, I see you too. Your struggles are not invisible, and your life is valuable beyond measure.
Through our collective grief and our ongoing conversation about masculinity, we can fight the battle against suicide together. By embracing vulnerability, fostering connection, and living authentically, we can create a world where men feel empowered to seek help rather than succumb to silent suffering.
As we approach September, a time of remembrance, I ask you to remember Austin. Let his memory, and the memories of countless others like him, inspire us to be the change we need in this world.
I see you,
Ethan
