June marks Mental Health Awareness Month, and this year's theme-"Closing the Empathy Gap"-rings louder than ever when we turn our gaze to men.
Too often, society sharpens men into tools-providers, protectors, problem-solvers-yet denies them the simple permission to feel. From boyhood, they are told to "man up," to swallow emotion, to wear strength like armor-even when it cuts into their skin.
This conditioning comes at a cost.
We call it masculinity. But for many, it is quiet suffering wrapped in silence. Men are trained to be stoic, unflinching, invulnerable. And in chasing that illusion of strength, they bury grief, ignore fatigue, and suppress despair.
Because admitting pain feels like failure. And asking for help feels like weakness.
"To be a man is not a day's job" has never felt more profound. It takes courage to rise every day, carrying not only life's burdens but also society's rigid expectations. Men show up through heartbreak.
Through burnout. Through loss and failure. They smile while unraveling. They succeed on the outside while breaking on the inside.
This month-and every month-belongs to them.
To the man who has not cried in years because the world told him not to. To the man who is exhausted but fears being seen as fragile. To the man who hears "Be a man" when what he really needs is, "How are you-really?"
Here is the truth:
It is okay to feel. Your emotions are not a threat to your masculinity.
It is okay to ask for help. Vulnerability is not weakness-it is wisdom.
It is okay to not be okay. Being human is not a flaw.
Men should not have to collapse in private while holding everyone else together in public. Yet, too many do. And far too many never get the chance to say it out loud before it is too late.
The statistics tell a grim story: suicide rates among men are significantly higher across the world. Not because they are weaker, but because they are less likely to seek help. Because they are not taught to name their pain, much less share it. Because silence has become their inheritance.
We must rewrite that legacy.
We must raise boys who believe that strength includes softness. We must show men that feeling does not subtract from their worth-it affirms it. We must make room for men to speak, to rest, to cry, and to heal-without ridicule, without shame.
To every man reading this: You are not invisible. Your struggle matters. You do not have to carry it all. And you do not have to carry it alone.
Empathy is strength. Vulnerability is courage. Healing is your birthright.
If we are truly committed to closing the empathy gap, we must start by listening-to what men say, and to what they are too afraid to say. We must stop demanding silence in the name of strength. Because this is why men die in silence.
Let them speak. Let them breathe. Let them heal.
Fatimah Yusuf Usman writes from PRNigeria Centre, Abuja. She can be reached at: fatimahborkonogmail.com.