June Is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month—And We Need to Talk About It
Hey. Let’s take a minute to talk about something that doesn’t get enough space, especially from men, for men, about men.
It’s June. Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month. And if I’m being honest, this one always hits differently. Not because of a headline or a hashtag—but because of what I’ve lived, what I’ve seen, and what I know so many of us are quietly carrying.
So let’s talk about it. Not just to be “aware,” but to make it real.
The Stats Don’t Lie—But They Also Don’t Speak Loud Enough
In the U.S., nearly 1 in 10 men experience depression or anxiety, but less than half will seek treatment.
Men die by suicide 3.9 times more often than women. Suicide is the 7th leading cause of death for men.
Men aged 25–64 account for nearly 80% of suicide deaths.
Black men are less likely to seek help for mental health issues due to systemic mistrust and lack of accessible, culturally competent care.
LGBTQ+ men face significantly higher rates of anxiety, depression, and suicide ideation—and are often denied access to affirming care.
In many cases, mental health struggles in men are misdiagnosed or overlooked entirely because they don’t present the “typical” way.
Let that sink in.
This isn’t just about statistics. These are lives. These are brothers, sons, fathers, partners, coworkers, streamers, gamers, artists, barbers, and best friends. Some of them are still here. Some aren’t.
And the ones who are? So many are hurting silently, because somewhere along the way, they were taught to do just that.
Strength Isn’t Silence
We grow up with messages like "man up," "get over it," "rub some dirt in it." We’re told that expressing pain is weakness. That if you can’t handle the weight, something must be wrong with you.
But here’s the truth: holding it all in doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you isolated. And eventually, it breaks you.
As men, we’re expected to carry everything—financial stress, emotional weight, trauma, fear, frustration, expectation—all without complaint. And if we crack? We’re told we’re the problem.
But mental health isn’t a gendered issue. It’s a human one. And no one should feel ashamed for struggling.
Check on Your Boys
Seriously. Check on them.
Not just when something’s clearly wrong. Not just when they’re pulling away. Check in before the breakdown. Before the silence gets too loud. Before the mask starts slipping.
Ask them how they’re really doing. Tell them it’s okay to cry. To be angry. To not be okay. Let them know they’re seen, heard, and loved—even when they don’t have the words.
Because sometimes that “yo, you good?” text is a lifeline.
If You’re One of the Quiet Ones
If you’re reading this and you’ve been surviving more than living—please know this:
You don’t have to do this alone.
Your pain is valid.
Your story matters.
You’re not weak. You’re human.
And whether it’s therapy, a trusted friend, a journal, a support group, a hotline, or even just saying it out loud in a quiet room—start somewhere. Reach out. Let someone in. You deserve that.
For the Fighters, the Feelers, the Ones Still Standing
This month isn’t about perfection. It’s not about pretending we’re all okay. It’s about breaking the silence, removing the shame, and creating space for men to heal—on their terms, in their way.
I’m not a therapist. I’m not a doctor. I’m just someone who knows how it feels to carry too much and say too little for too long.
So if nothing else, I hope this blog gives you one thing: permission. To feel. To fall apart. To rest. To reach out. To talk about the stuff that’s hard. Because that’s not weakness—it’s courage.
And if you’ve got men in your life—check on them. Not just this month. Always.
We need each other. Now more than ever.