It’s Okay Not to Be Okay, Even for ‘Him’
"Man up." "Boys don’t cry." "Be strong, you're the man of the house." He hears these lines all the time. He stays silent, gulps down the stress, and laughs it off. These phrases may sound familiar; we've heard them, read them, and even said them knowingly or unknowingly. They echo in school playgrounds, family dinners, office corridors, and inside men's own heads. Each time they are spoken, a wall is built—one that blocks emotion, silence, and pain from escaping. Beneath every smile is a story untold—a racing heart with nervousness as fuel, an overthinking mind, and a restless soul waiting for a break.
A young man sits by his computer, face lit by the glow of his laptop screen. He has just been chastised in a team meeting, his boss's words still ringing in his ears. He won't vent, won’t cry, won’t call a friend. After coming back home, he picks up his child with a smile, shares dinner with his family, and offers advice as if he has it all figured out. Later that night, in the bathroom mirror, he stares blankly, trying not to let the tears fall.
From movies to mythology, boys grow up watching heroes who save the world but rarely cry. The only time a man breaks down on screen is either turned into comic relief or a dramatic moment of failure. Why do we expect men to carry the world on their shoulders, yet deny them the right to rest? Men’s Mental Health Week (June 9–15) is not just a calendar note; it’s a necessary wake-up call. We live in a world where mental health stigma is real, and for men, it’s often masked behind forced strength. They are told to be the "providers," the "protectors," the "pillars." But what if the pillar is cracking inside?
The pressure is immense. From expectations to perform well professionally to being emotionally invulnerable in relationships, societal narratives don’t allow space for vulnerability. This constant suppression leads to quiet breakdowns, internalized stress, and at times, tragic consequences.
In India, men account for over 70% of suicide deaths annually (NCRB 2022), yet the majority of mental health outreach targets women. Statistics don’t lie: men are less likely to seek therapy and more likely to suffer in silence. Even when they do reach out, they often battle shame, judgment, or dismissal with comments like "you’re overthinking." From college students hiding depression under humor to middle-aged men dismissing burnout as “just tiredness,” the emotional burden is invisible but heavy. Like the final over in a cricket match, they’re expected to deliver—regardless of stress or cost.
What can we do? Yes, all of us! Listen without fixing. Don’t interrupt with advice. Sometimes, all a man needs is a space to be heard without being told what to do. Replace judgment with gentleness, ask: “How are you really feeling?” and stay long enough to hear the truth. Challenge gender stereotypes. Stop using terms like "crybaby" or "weak" for emotional expression. Start affirming that expressing emotion is human, not gendered. Encourage seeking therapy—normalize it and celebrate it. A need for therapy isn’t a sign that something is wrong; it’s a sign that something matters. Create emotional role models. If you’re a father, brother, teacher, or friend, be honest about your own struggles. Your openness will be someone else’s permission.
A tear doesn’t make him less of a man. In fact, the courage to feel, to break, to rebuild—that’s true masculinity. Let this week be more than just hashtags; let it be a chance to rewrite the narrative. To all the men reading this: You are not weak because you feel. You are not alone because you struggle. You don’t have to be okay all the time.
Because it’s okay not to be okay—especially for ‘him’. Masculinity is not about suppression; it’s about expression with dignity. Let’s build a world where men can take off the armor and still be seen as warriors.
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