Breaking the Silence: Why Many Men Struggle to Talk About Their Feelings

Back of a man leaning over wearing a hoodie that says "Boys Get Sad Too"

Uploaded from Unsplash on 9/8/2025

I’m not a man. I don’t know what it’s like to walk through the world in a male-identified body. But I’ve spent a lot of time sitting with men in therapy, listening closely as they share their stories—their struggles, regrets, hopes, and quiet wishes for something better. Over time, I’ve noticed some common threads that can make it especially hard for men to talk about their feelings.

Think about the question we all get asked every day: “How are you?” Most of us default to the automatic, neutral answer: “I’m fine.” The truth? A lot of us aren’t fine. Many of us are stressed, overwhelmed, or quietly holding more than we know how to carry. For men, though, saying out loud, “I’m not okay” is often even harder. It’s not just uncomfortable—it can feel unacceptable. Our culture has long taught men that emotions like sadness, fear, or tenderness are signs of weakness, while anger or silence are somehow “safer.” Add to that the generational and family messages many men grew up with—things like “real men don’t cry,” “toughen up,” or “deal with it on your own”—and suddenly it makes sense why opening up feels almost impossible.

This doesn’t mean men don’t have deep emotions. They do—sometimes even more intensely than they realize. But for many, putting those feelings into words feels like trying to speak a language no one ever taught them. Silence around emotions isn’t a personal failing, laziness, or lack of effort. It’s a survival strategy learned over years of navigating a world that doesn’t make much room for male vulnerability.

As a therapist in Oakland who offers counseling for men, I hear this story all the time. Men come into therapy wanting more: more connection with themselves, more intimacy in their relationships, more freedom from the pressure of always having to appear strong. And yet, they often feel stuck—like there’s this invisible wall between them and the people they love most. Therapy can be a place to name that wall, trace where it came from, and begin finding new ways to slowly take it down.

Why Men Struggle to Talk About Feelings: An Anxiety Therapist in Okland’s Take

Silence doesn’t just happen—it’s taught. From a young age, many boys are trained, both directly and indirectly, to mute or mask certain emotions. These lessons don’t just come from parents, but also from peers, media, and cultural narratives about masculinity that equate vulnerability with weakness. Peggy Orenstein, in her book Boys & Sex, describes how boys quickly absorb the message that showing sadness or fear will cost them social status, while anger or detachment earns them approval.

Family Messages

Think back to the phrases many boys hear growing up:

  • “Boys don’t cry.”

  • “Man up.”

    “Don’t be weak.”

Even in loving families, these messages are often handed down with protective intentions. A father telling his son not to cry might believe he’s toughening him up for a harsh world. A mother praising her son for “being strong” may see it as fostering independence. But the effect is the same: boys quickly learn to swallow their hurt, hide their disappointment, and ignore the body’s natural signals of pain or fear.

Over time, these lessons can limit not just a boy’s relationship with himself, but also with others. If he isn’t taught to be compassionate toward his own feelings, he may struggle to extend empathy outward. The result? Many men come to believe that love and respect are conditional—that they’re earned by suppressing vulnerability. Sadness, tenderness, and fear get locked away, while toughness and anger are left as the only socially acceptable outlets. By adulthood, expressing emotions can feel foreign, unsafe, or even shameful, leaving men stuck behind a mask of inauthentic strength.

Generational Influences on Masculinity

Older generations often lived in circumstances where survival, not self-expression, was the priority. Immigrant fathers and grandfathers may have carried the weight of uprooting their families and providing under difficult conditions. Black and Brown men may have endured systemic racism that forced them to adopt emotional armor to stay safe. Veterans and working-class men may have experienced environments where showing emotion was seen as weakness.

Take, for example, a man whose grandfather immigrated with nothing and whose father grew up working multiple jobs to keep the family afloat. That father might have rarely talked about feelings, not because he didn’t have them, but because there wasn’t room for them—survival and providing came first. When that father tells his son, “Don’t cry, be strong,” he’s not just parroting cultural conditioning; he’s also passing down his own trauma responses. Stoicism, in this way, isn’t simply a choice or personality trait—it’s a survival strategy forged in hardship, then unconsciously taught to the next generation.

As Terrence Real, author of I Don’t Want to Talk About It, writes: “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation, longing for connection but trained against it.” That training—rooted in real historical and cultural conditions—doesn’t just disappear with the next generation. Instead, it’s handed down, often unconsciously, leaving many men today carrying both the cultural conditioning and the unhealed survival strategies of the men who came before them.

Cultural Messages

mixed race man looking lost in thought and alone

Uploaded from Unsplash on 9/8/2025

Masculinity norms vary across cultures, but the script often sounds familiar: real men are stoic, strong, and independent. Vulnerability is framed as weakness. For BIPOC and multiracial men, these expectations are further complicated by racialized stereotypes. Men of color are often labeled as “too emotional,” “angry,” or “dangerous.” To push back against these narratives, many feel pressure to show up as hyper-controlled, unbothered, and endlessly capable.

For Latinx and other BIPOC men in particular, the family adds another layer. Many grow up carrying the weight of their parents’ sacrifices, especially in immigrant households. There’s often an unspoken rule: don’t complain, don’t disappoint, and definitely don’t bring your struggles home. A second-generation Latinx man, for example, may feel enormous pressure to be “the strong one” for his family—to honor the resilience of his immigrant parents by keeping his own stress or depression to himself. The message he absorbs is that seeking help would be selfish or burdensome. But without space to share openly—whether in the family or outside of it because of stigma—what’s left is isolation and shame. The very qualities that kept previous generations safe now leave many men today cut off from the emotional support they most need.

The Unspoken Rule

Taken together, these family, generational, and cultural messages create an unspoken rule for men: you can feel, but don’t show it. Over time, many men lose touch with their own emotional worlds. They might experience stress, sadness, or fear physically—through tension, stomach aches, or irritability—without recognizing the feelings underneath.

According to the American Psychological Association (APA), men are less likely than women to seek therapy, in part because of these restrictive norms around masculinity (APA, 2018). The National Institute of Mental Health (NIH) also reports that men are less likely to be diagnosed with depression, but more likely to die by suicide—underscoring how silence around emotions can have life-threatening consequences.

The Hidden Cost of Staying Silent

Staying silent may feel safer in the moment, but the costs build over time:

  • Mental health struggles: Anxiety, depression, or irritability can simmer beneath the surface.

  • Strained relationships: Partners may feel shut out, friends may drift away, children may grow up with the same silence passed down to them.

  • Physical health impacts: Unexpressed emotions can show up in headaches, high blood pressure, or trouble sleeping.



Perhaps the most painful cost is loneliness. Many men feel profoundly isolated—without close friendships, without spaces where they can be vulnerable, and without the support they truly need. That loneliness doesn’t just weigh on their personal well-being; it also affects the people around them. Some men turn their pain outward, which can look like anger, withdrawal, or perpetuating toxic masculinity. In extreme cases, it can fuel division between genders—blaming women instead of recognizing the deeper longing for connection underneath.

This kind of modeling gets passed down, often unconsciously. Sons watch their fathers stay silent, avoid tenderness, or lash out, and they learn to do the same. The cycle continues: pressure builds for men to suppress their emotions, disconnection deepens, and the walls around vulnerability get reinforced yet again.

As Terrence Real notes, emotional disconnection is often at the root of men’s struggles—not just within themselves, but in their relationships and in society at large. Therapy can be one place where men begin breaking that cycle, learning to name their needs, and discovering healthier, more connected ways of being.

What Talking About Feelings Can Do for Men: And Oakland Therapist’s Perspective

Here’s the hopeful part: learning to talk about feelings is like learning a new language. At first, it feels awkward and unfamiliar, but with practice it becomes more natural—and life-changing.

  • It builds real strength. Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s resilience. It takes courage to drop the mask, show up authentically, and let others see who you really are.

  • It deepens connection. Naming emotions creates space for intimacy—with partners, children, friends, and even with oneself. It allows relationships to feel more genuine and reciprocal, rather than built on silence or performance.

  • It brings relief. Many men describe a lifting of pressure when they finally put words to what they’ve been holding inside. No longer having to carry everything alone—or pretend to have it all together—brings immense freedom.

    But beyond relief, this work can also feel liberatory. When men begin to express their emotions, they’re not only healing themselves—they’re breaking free from generations of silence and suppression. They loosen the grip of old survival strategies and create new possibilities for their sons, daughters, and communities. Talking about feelings becomes an act of defiance against toxic masculinity and a path toward living more fully as one’s authentic self.

Men who seek counseling for men often discover that this journey doesn’t just ease their anxiety or improve relationships—it helps them reclaim their wholeness. It’s a chance to step out from behind the invisible wall and live with more honesty, connection, and freedom.

Therapy as a Safe Space for Men

If opening up feels scary, remember—you’re not broken for struggling to talk about your feelings. You’ve been trained to stay silent, but training can be unlearned. Talking about feelings is not just healing, it’s liberatory. It can free you from the burden of always having to hold it together, allow you to live more authentically, and break the intergenerational cycle of silence and trauma.

Therapy in Oakland offers something many men have never had: a place to say what feels unspeakable, without judgment. It may seem daunting or too overwhelming, but we will slowly begin to practice finding words for your emotions and to try to understand what they are telling us. We will take small steps with trying out vulnerability and begin to untangle your worth from emotional toughness.  Therapy is the only hour of the week where you don’t have to pretend and it can create space for honesty that can ripple out into the rest of your life.   By stepping into a safe space, you can begin to reconnect with your emotions, experience the relief of being fully seen, and create a new model of strength—an expansive one that includes compassion, connection, and freedom.

Counseling for men can help you reclaim your voice, deepen your relationships, and build a life that feels more authentic and whole.

If opening up feels scary, remember—you’re not flawed if you struggle to talk about your feelings. You’ve been trained to stay silent, but training can be unlearned. Therapy can help you reconnect with your emotions and break the cycle of silence, offering a different model for yourself and for future generations.

If you’re a man in Oakland or anywhere in California searching for counseling for men, I’d be honored to walk alongside you. As a therapist in Oakland, I provide a safe space to explore your story and learn new ways of relating to yourself and others.


Lara Clayman, LCSW and anxiety therapist in Oakland, wearing a black shirt, gold earrings smiling in front of a fence

Anxiety Therapist Oakland

Author Bio:

Lara Clayman, LCSW, is an online therapist in Oakland, California. She specializes in working with trauma, multicultural issues, anxiety and counseling for men.

Next
Next

Is Anxiety Therapy in Oakland Worth the Cost? Practical and Emotional Factors That Shape the Cost Decision