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Created on 8/13/2025
3 mins read
Men are suffering. We neglect our health, maintain unhealthy relationships, and die prematurely. For generations, we’ve been seen through the lens of the “provider” archetype—tasked with earning, protecting, and persevering. But today, many men are left questioning: What role do I play now?
In a world of shifting expectations, we often carry an unbearable burden to prove our worth, remain stoic, and uphold outdated ideals of masculinity.
In this piece, we’ll explore the hidden behavioural patterns that contribute to poor men’s health—and begin to uncover paths toward healing and renewal.
Many of us have become poor judges of our physical limits. While our bodies are designed for movement, strength, and endurance, they also require rest, nourishment, and deep care.
Yet we push too hard. We overwork. We eat inflammatory foods, neglect hydration, and practice poor sleep hygiene. The result? Burnout, fatigue, and premature aging.
In a world of constant stimulation and endless consumption, the key to physical well-being may lie not in what we add, but in what we eliminate. Simplicity, discipline, and self-awareness are essential. Developing a daily rhythm rooted in restraint, reflection, and intentional self-care isn’t indulgence—it’s survival.
Studies show that men are two to three times more likely than women to develop addictions. This sobering reality is shaped by societal conditioning—where masculinity is often equated with suppression, toughness, and emotional distance.
These norms make it difficult for men to express pain, ask for help, or even acknowledge their inner struggles. Instead, we numb. We self-soothe. And the silence deepens.
At our core, many of us are doers—we build, fix, and provide. But unchecked, this can lead to patterns of overachievement, emotional disconnection, and a slow mental decline. In the pursuit of external validation—approval from peers, family, or society—we set unrealistic expectations for ourselves, our bodies, and our worth.
We chase high-stimulation lifestyles, overwhelm our nervous systems, and attempt to cope through addiction or escapism.
To survive and thrive, we must learn to quiet the ego, reject toxic standards of success, and honour the deep needs of our minds and souls.
For too long, men who achieved with little assistance were placed on a pedestal. But that narrative is not only outdated—it’s dangerous.
Men who don’t seek help are more likely to suffer in silence and face deteriorating mental and physical health. Even more troubling is that these unrealistic ideals of masculinity are often upheld by other men—especially those in positions of power, influence, or visibility. Yet, many of them are quietly battling the same inner turmoil.
Trying to meet these impossible standards—trying to please the very system that depletes us—leads to overwork, addiction, emotional repression, and burnout. We cannot afford to carry this legacy forward. The real act of courage is not perfection, but connection. We must normalize seeking help, showing vulnerability, and leaning on each other for support.
It is in cooperation—not competition—that we find meaning, love, and beauty. Chasing validation by outcompeting others never brought lasting peace. It never will.
Let’s start talking more openly about men’s health—physical, emotional, relational, and spiritual. Let’s take responsibility for what truly nourishes us. And let’s build systems of support where men are encouraged not to suffer silently, but to thrive together.
Thank you for reading