November’s Men’s Mental Health Week

Men are raised to hold it together. Bills, deadlines, deadlifts—whatever it takes. But somewhere between “I’m fine” and “I’ll sort it,” the real stuff gets buried.

We’ve built a culture that celebrates pushing through, not speaking up. The quiet rage on the drive home. The overworking that keeps you from feeling. It doesn’t look like depression. It looks like being a bloke.

It’s pain in disguise — masked as “I’m fine.”. A dad who only spoke in shouts. A mum who checked out years ago. At school where tears meant target practice. That stuff doesn’t fade—it ferments. Becomes a knot in your gut, a snap at the kids, a fridge raid at 3 a.m. when sleep won’t come.

Therapy is a safe corner where you can test the water without drowning. When you start wondering: What if I’m not alright? That’s the spark. You weigh the cost of staying stuck against the fear of changing.

Then the real graft starts. You show up, say the thing you’ve never said, feel the shake in your hands. It’s not magic—it’s practice. Naming the anxiety that’s had you gripping the wheel too tight. Facing the shame that says you’re not enough. Owning the guilt that keeps you saying yes when you mean no. You learn to sit with the discomfort instead of numbing it. You build trust, one session at a time, with someone who won’t flinch when you finally let it out.

Therapy is one simple way of taking risks with being vulnerable in a contained confidential setting where perhaps talking to your mates is not cutting it seeing a trained professional can

You’re not fixed. You’re just not carrying it alone anymore.