Let’s Unpack Masculinity & Therapy

Therapy can be a place to shed the old and welcome the new. How have we personally benefited from therapy as it relates to our understanding of gender? Can therapy be part of unlearning what we've learned from patriarchy? On the flip side, has it been used as a tool to reinforce patriarchy?

We delved into these questions and more at a recent NGM Circle event.

By Lee W.

This event was capital ‘P’ personal for me.

Next Gen Men is an overwhelmingly positive and respectful group. I can’t think of one Circle event, over my past three years of volunteering, where I felt uncomfortable or unsafe—even when topics important to me, such as substance abuse and parenting, were the subject matter.

Mental health was another big one.

It’s been a struggle of mine since my early youth and I have spent 20 years working with a variety of mental health professionals, general practitioners, and pharmacists to support my well-being.

So, leading up to the event, I spent considerable time trying to think of ways I could mentally counter any stigmatizing conversations that might unfold—essentially from a well-practiced sense of self-safety.

I’m glad to say that our Circle on masculinity and therapy was positive and insightful. Other participants shared many of the same experiences I have when it comes to societal and familial messaging around mental health and what it means to ‘be a man’—whatever ‘being a man’ actually means.

When we talked about some of the individual barriers we have faced when talking to others about taking care of our mental health, we found we had a lot in common.

For instance, consensus was that most of us have heard that seeking therapy to help with psychological problems is a ‘sign of weakness,’ that it in some way demonstrates being uncertain about ourselves.

We were also taught that being emotionally detached would make us ‘successful men.’ Men are supposed to be the protectors of their family, have all the answers, and are supposed to deal with their problems alone.

Being decisive, acting fast, getting shit ‘fixed’—these are kind of the ways men are told to deal with problems. Yet the problems that people go to therapy for might not be able to be ‘fixed’ quickly, or ever.

Healing isn’t linear. Some things can never be ‘fixed,’ only healed from, or managed.

Being vulnerable to a therapist is scary. Men might fear sharing things they’ve potentially ignored for a long time. They might not know how to open up. They might worry about being seen as needy, incompetent, or weak. There are fears about ‘losing our edge,’ that if we were healed, would we stop pushing ourselves so hard?

What we were told, and what we experienced just haven’t lined up. Therapy made us stronger (not weaker) and emotional detachment didn’t make us ‘successful,’ it typically made our relationships fail.

The ways we are told to ‘man up’—the demands of patriarchal masculinity—are at the root of stigma and shame.

These messages push boys and men to “tough it out” and deny their own pain. We are told to repress any sign of needing help with our problems. Consequently, this forms barriers to seeking assistance and admitting that we need time to care for ourselves with the help of either loved ones or professionals.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Our community is made of folks who not only see the shifting landscape, but have experienced it firsthand, and are actively contributing to pushing back.

Combating patriarchal masculinity means reframing conversations around showing vulnerability as being a sign of strength. It means understanding that doing things to get healthy (like therapy!) actually make us better leaders and more compassionate people, both in our own lives and in the lives of the people around us.

There is strength in talking more about our own experiences with therapy and caring for our mental health.

Stigma doesn’t like being challenged and there’s no better way to challenge societal norms around avoiding these discussions than to actually engage in them.

Luckily, these conversations are becoming more normalized, and even celebrated. Male athletes—sometimes upheld as the epitome of desirable masculinity—are starting conversations around their own psychological struggles.

In the last three years, Robin Lehner, an elite goalie for the Las Vegas Golden Knights, has been very public about his struggles with bipolar disorder, substance use disorder, and the barriers he experienced to getting help within National Hockey League organizations. He’s had the courage to name the teams that failed him and has called for his sport, and all professional sports, to recognize the damage that these systemic barriers (grounded in patriarchal masculinity) present to people who are suffering. The urgency can’t be understated—as he has shared, he almost died due to their effects.

Carey Price (another giant in professional hockey), DeMar DeRozan and Kevin Love (professional basketball players) are a few other major male athletes to come forward and talk about changing the societal narrative around treating mental health and the benefits of seeking therapeutic support. There are others as well—athletes, actors, and men in the public eye, who are speaking up.

Whether we feel like we have a lot of influence or not, we need to take steps, in our own little parts of the world, to break down the stigma associated with struggling with mental health problems and seeking support. Psychologists, social workers, and counsellors can help us understand our challenges and develop the skills that allow us to live our best (and healthiest) lives.

We need to talk more about the things that make us human beings—to show that a lot of us live with depression, anxiety and other disorders—that these are markers of being human, not anything to be ashamed about.