“Real Talk: Men’s Mental Health” Life is messy. Emails are evil. Traffic is worse.

The Stoic Man Myth Busted

Here’s your reality check: men crying isn’t a cinematic climax. It’s a Wednesday. It’s a moment. It’s emotional honesty, not a deleted scene from a Marvel film. Yet, somewhere along the line, society decided that “real men” don’t cry. Instead, we’re supposed to grunt, shrug, and bottle up every emotion like it’s beer in a cooler.

Spoiler: Bottling things up doesn’t make you strong. It makes you human… with the occasional urge to throw your laptop out the window after one too many Zoom calls. And no, that’s not weak. It’s called being alive.

This post is here to permit you to feel, to cry, and maybe even to admit that life is messy. Let’s break it down.

Most men were raised with a classic script:

• “Man up!”
• “Stop crying, it’s just a scrape.”
• “Feelings? Pfft. That’s for other people.”

The intent? Build resilience. The reality? You end up with a pressure cooker brain. You can bottle it for a while, but eventually… boom. Mood swings, sleepless nights, stress headaches, and occasional sudden sobbing over a sad TV scene, yes, it happens to us all.

Here’s a tip: bottling up stress doesn’t make you tough. It just makes you ready for an emotional explosion at the worst possible time.

Let’s get scientific for a sec (don’t worry, no quizzes). Crying is actually good for you. Yep, those big, ugly sobs count too. Research shows that tears can:

• Lower stress hormones
• Improve mood
• Help you think more clearly

Think of it as emotional spring cleaning. You can cry in the shower, in your car, or quietly in bed while binge-watching a sad series, or war film if you must. Either way, it’s therapeutic and totally normal.

And here’s the fun part: crying doesn’t have to be a full Oscar-worthy breakdown. A single tear sliding down your cheek because your inbox just hit 300 unread emails? Valid. Getting misty-eyed because your favourite character got plot-twisted into oblivion? Also, valid. Crying is like emotional housekeeping. Sometimes it’s a deep clean, sometimes it’s just wiping down the counters.

Men are pros at masking feelings with humour. “I’m fine,” they say, followed by a sarcastic joke about life, work, or their questionable life choices.

Sure, humour is fantastic. It releases endorphins, makes life more bearable, and sometimes, it’s the only thing standing between you and a full-blown meltdown.

But humour alone? That’s like putting a party hat on a leaking pipe. Temporary relief, yes. Real repair? Nope. You need to actually deal with the underlying stuff.

Feeling overwhelmed? Here’s how to ease into emotional honesty without turning into a melodramatic soap opera:

• Talk to someone you trust: Partner, friend, family member or even a dog, (the four-legged kind, not your mate Dave, who once ate a candle on a dare). Dogs are surprisingly good listeners. They won’t interrupt, judge, or offer unsolicited advice. Just pure, tail-wagging emotional support. Bonus points if they tilt their head sympathetically.
• Journal it out: No literary talent required. You’re not auditioning for the Booker Prize, just spill the brain beans. Scribble, rant, doodle a stick figure crying into a sandwich. Whatever gets the feelings out of your head and onto the page counts. Bonus points if your pen survives the emotional rollercoaster.
• Support groups: Talking with other men can help de-weird the whole “having feelings” thing. It’s not group therapy with scented candles (unless you want that), it’s just real chats with people who get it. Check out Men’s Health Forum for a solid starting point. Bonus: no one will make you do trust falls.
• Professional help: Therapy isn’t a weakness, it’s emotional Wi-Fi. Sometimes your brain needs a reboot, and talking to a professional is like calling tech support for your soul. The NHS offers mental health support if you’re not sure where to start. No need to whisper the word “therapy” like it’s a secret spell; it’s just smart maintenance.

Here’s the truth: vulnerability is powerful. Crying, talking, journaling, laughing, or admitting “I’m not okay”, these aren’t signs of weakness. They’re proof that you’re human, aware, and ready to take care of yourself.

Imagine a world where men could openly discuss stress, sadness, or anxiety without someone rolling their eyes and muttering “man up.” That world isn’t utopia; it’s possible if we start normalising honest conversation.

If you’re ready to take action:

• Mind: Guides, tips, and services for mental health support.
• Samaritans: 24/7 emotional support call or email.
• Shout 85258: Text-based support if talking feels too scary.
• Men’s Health Forum: – Peer support and guidance for men.

These aren’t just links, they’re lifelines. Reaching out doesn’t make you weak; it makes you strategic.

Life is messy. Emails are evil. Traffic is worse. And sometimes, the world is just… a lot. No amount of grunting, shrugging, or deep breathing will make it all disappear.

Crying, laughing, talking, and being honest about your feelings, these small acts of vulnerability are proof that you’re alive, human, and capable of managing your mental health.

Next time your brain feels like it’s hosting a rock concert of stress, let yourself cry. Even welcome it. And if someone judges you? Their problem, not yours.

Men, let’s normalise feeling. Strength isn’t silence. Strength is letting it out.

Explore more with us:

• Browse Spiralmore collections
• Read our Informal Blog for relaxed insights
• Discover Deconvolution and see what’s happening
• Visit Gwenin for a curated selection of frameworks