This week I was reading an article in the July/August Psychology Today Magazine about heavyweight boxer Deontay Wilder. This article was prompted by a moment in the ring in which he began to cry out of concern for a fellow boxer whom he had just knocked out. In the article he shares his thoughts about vulnerability, and he even discussed his theory that crying is a form of cleansing his body to remove the bad and make room for some good. While I was reading the article, I realized that the reason it was written was because Wilder is somewhat of an oddity. This turned my thinking to the buzzword, “toxic masculinity.” In a psychcentral.com** article, Taneasha White defines toxic masculinity as, “A set of behaviors and values that are connected to a traditional and potentially antiquated understanding of gender roles.” Masculinity is not bad or wrong, just like femininity is neither bad or wrong. However, a toxic view of masculinity considers femininity to be associated with weakness, and it also implies that this is bad. This view puts masculinity and femininity in two distinct categories and implies that one is better than the other. It simultaneously undervalues women as well as men who don’t conform to a narrow view of what is masculine.

Going back to the article about Deontay Wilder, there is definitely a lingering notion that crying is weak or feminine. I feel compelled to admit that I’m not writing this blog from the top of a soapbox. In truth, I’m sometimes guilty of old fashioned notions of masculinity too. I’ve been professionally encouraging people to share their emotions for 18 years now, but I was still raised in the same society, and it is hard to openly express emotions like sadness or fear. I want my boys to be able to feel comfortable fully expressing their feelings and emotions, but I still hold the notion that I can’t because I’m supposed to be the rock of my family. It is stupid…I know it’s stupid, even in the moment. Yet, it persists. We can’t really put all the blame on society, though. In reality, we’re all responsible for allowing these notions to persist through our behaviors and expectations. A good place to start is by asking ourselves to examine our own views a little more deeply and questioning them. For instance, ask yourself how you would feel about a boy in dance class or if a boy cries after striking out in little league. Maybe some would argue that they don’t want anyone to throw a fit on the ball field, regardless of gender, but the way that we communicate to that child can either show the importance of game etiquette or continue narrow views of masculinity.

Toxic masculinity** is associated with an expectation of toughness, a sense that feelings and emotions equal weakness, and it often results in discrimination. This is what makes Deontay Wilder such an oddity. Wilder is in touch with his feelings and not afraid to publicly express them, he discusses (in the article) how he checks on his fellow boxers and makes sure that they feel loved, he makes his daughter his priority (providing for her was the reason he started boxing), and he is obviously tough. He was the WBC boxing heavyweight champ for 5 years, so we know he is physically tough. But when we really look at the bravery it takes for him to be so open with his feelings in a traditionally masculine sport, we see another type of toughness as well.

Taken to extremes**, a rigid and toxic view of masculinity can result in sexism and discrimination. After all, if someone believes that masculinity is superior to femininity, their actions will reflect this. However, due to the way that this toxicity has permeated society, women can also be guilty of judging men who are less traditionally masculine or women who are less traditionally feminine. It’s presence in our society is significantly more harmful in criminal situations like rape, where women are often asked about their behaviors prior to an attack–as though they somehow held some level of responsibility for being assaulted.

It also appears** that individuals who hold more toxic views of masculinity are more likely to have higher levels of depression, anxiety, hostile behaviors, and mental health problems. A poll in 2015 showed that up to 9% of men have depression and anxiety, but fewer than half of them ever seek mental health treatment to help them deal. I don’t know about the chicken and egg factor between poor mental health and toxic masculinity, which is to say that I don’t know what impacts what. Most likely, these two things tend to reinforce each other.

The good news is that hope is out there. It starts** with questioning one’s own views of masculinity. White suggests asking yourself the following questions:

Have I ever denied myself something because I felt it was feminine?
Have I judged someone else for not being masculine enough?
Have I found myself adhering to any of the potentially harmful behaviors from above?

Regardless of how you answered these questions, there is no need for shame. Shame is a motivation zapper, and doesn’t help us make positive changes. Learning to be happy with yourself and finding peace in who you are can help you figure out where you want to be. White also suggests starting to challenge those that value your opinion. Don’t be afraid to engage in respectful arguments about what is right. Every one of us can always do better. Growth and maturity can and should be a lifelong process.

*Psychology Today Magazine August 2023, article: Pulling No Punches by Tyler Woods

**https://psychcentral.com/health/toxic-masculinity#what-it-is

Why is it so hard for men to ask for help? As a man who has been on this planet for over 40 years, I’m not necessarily clear about the answer to that, myself. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), approximately half of women who have a diagnosable mental health problem seek treatment in a given year, while only 37% of men with a mental health condition seek treatment. Maybe some of these men are refusing to ask for help, but that answer seems a little too easy. I tend to think that, when it comes to human behavior, the answers usually aren’t easy. In fact, I think there are probably a wide variety of reasons that only a third of men who are struggling with their mental health are seeking treatment.

Now, I want to be clear that the terms “mental illness or mental health disorder” are umbrella terms. These terms include many disorders that most people have heard of: Depression, anxiety disorders, adjustment disorders, post traumatic stress disorder, schizophrenia, as well as others. Mental health disorders are all serious, though they differ drastically from one another. I point this out because I think there is a fear for a lot of people that they will be labeled as “crazy” for seeking mental health treatment. This term diminishes the difficulties that people have and perpetuates the stigma about pursuing help with their struggles. In my experience, people tend to come to counseling when they have been through something difficult, when they have inherited a problem that they didn’t ask for, or when something incredibly hard has happened to them. The diagnosis is just a way of making sense of that struggle and gives the professional a direction for treatment.

Back to the original question, of why men tend to be reluctant to get help when they are struggling with their mental health. Oftentimes, when we have a problem, the effects of that problem accumulate over time. There is an old metaphor about how a frog dumped into boiling water will leap back out, but a frog in water that slowly heats up won’t notice there is a problem until it is too late. I don’t know who was experimenting with these frogs, but mental health problems can slowly creep up on us, and we may not know how bad things have gotten until the suffering becomes extreme. A societal value for men is to be tough, power through, or man-up. To some degree, we should embrace difficulty. We do become stronger as we face challenges, but we also need to know when we need help getting through a challenge. Some key signs to look for that tell us that something is crushing you instead of giving you an opportunity for growth:

Your sleep is impacted, by way of having trouble sleeping or sleeping too long.
You notice a change in weight that wasn’t intentional through diet and exercise.
You feel overwhelmed multiple times throughout the week.
Anxiety or deep sadness becomes a regular part of the day.
You have trouble concentrating or making decisions.
You feel irritable or have a hard time finding pleasure in once-enjoyable activities.
Feelings of worthlessness or thoughts of suicide. This includes thoughts that the world might be better off without you.

Many men view themselves as fixers. We also tend to see ourselves as carrying the responsibility for keeping our families and loved ones safe. We may see it as our responsibility to, “by God, get the job done.” There is also societal pressure about what masculinity looks like, and those societal values may not always match one’s own values regarding masculinity. It seems that today many men feel confused by what society wants us to be because different parts of our society want different things from us. I think that all of these factors play a part in the reluctance that many men feel about getting help when they are struggling.

I’d like to throw a wrench into the normal view of toughness–the idea that a man should be able to shoulder all of his burdens and keep moving forward as though he is unaffected. Being tough isn’t about doing the easy thing. Losing our tempers and blowing up on the undeserving, that’s easy. Becoming violent because we don’t have the patience to talk a problem through and find a solution, that’s easy. Shutting down because we fear we might look weak if we show the deep, vulnerable emotions that are lying beneath the surface, that’s easy. If toughness is based on doing the hard thing, that means it takes true strength to face our problems and ask for help, even if it is scary. If you are tired of struggling alone, open up to a loved one, speak to your doctor, or contact a mental health professional. Facing something scary is how we show bravery, and if there was nothing to fear, we could never have the chance to be brave.