Are Men Ok?
Loneliness, Gossip, And The Quiet Costs Of The Patriarchy
While watching (read: ignoring) football with my husband one weekend, I did a double-take at a facial cream commercial clearly targeted at men. My first reaction was an unfiltered, half‑joking thought: The patriarchy is after them, too?
What struck me wasn’t just the product—it was the message. The same one women have been sold for decades: fix this, smooth that, buy this to be worthy. Different packaging, same promise of belonging, confidence, and approval.
But what happens when worthiness is something you’re told to purchase instead of experience through connection?
That question sits at the heart of some of my work. A large portion of my clients are men, and across age, background, and circumstance, one theme emerges again and again: Loneliness.
The Loss of Emotional Language
In our society, most men are socialized from a young age to limit their emotional range. Boys don’t cry, didn’t you know? Instead, sadness becomes frustration. Fear becomes irritation. Grief becomes silence.
Anger, conveniently, isn’t seen as an emotion but as a reaction, a problem, or a personality trait. This rebranding allows it to remain acceptable while everything else is discouraged. Unfortunately, the result isn’t emotional strength. It’s emotional illiteracy. And when you don’t have language for what you feel, it becomes nearly impossible to share your inner world with another person.
Gossip, Connection, and the Patriarchy
Historically, what we now call gossip was one of the primary ways women shared information, processed experiences, and kept one another safe. It was relational. It was emotional. It was connective. And then it was reframed.
Gossip became something trivial, shameful, and feminine. Something serious people (especially men) were supposed to rise above. “Men don’t gossip” became a badge of honor, even though what it really meant was: men don’t talk about feelings, relationships, or the inner workings of their lives.
With all these topics now traditionally off limits in male friendships, most conversations never make it past the surface. Being pissed about your boss being a jerk is ok. Talking about how dismissed and unimportant it might make you feel is just a bit too far into emotions for most conversations to venture. The subject is changed and the big game is discussed.
When emotional sharing is dismissed as weakness, an entire pathway to connection gets shut down.
Loneliness as a Mental Health Issue
When you can’t name what you feel, and you’ve been taught not to lean on others, isolation isn’t a surprise. Disconnection and anger often follow; underneath them sits loneliness.
Loneliness isn’t just an unpleasant feeling; it can be the source of serious mental health concerns. Experiencing consistent loneliness is associated with increased rates of depression, anxiety, substance use, and physical health issues. It’s also often an influential factor in contemplating suicide, which occurs at significantly higher rates in men.
Yet men are statistically less likely to seek mental health support, and not because they don’t need it. It is often because they may have been taught that needing support means failure. They might believe that acknowledging feelings is weak and that handling things alone is the only respectable option.
So instead of connection, many men cope through isolation, distraction, or self‑criticism. And the loneliness deepens.
What Can We Do?
This isn’t about blaming men—or women. It’s about naming the system that limits everyone.
Some starting points:
Normalize emotional conversation among men. Not as crisis management, but as regular life maintenance.
Expand the emotional vocabulary. Feelings are more nuanced than “fine,” “stressed,” or “angry.”
Challenge the shame around support. Therapy, community, and interdependence are not signs of weakness.
Join (or create) a men’s group. Consistent, shared space with other men—whether centered on conversation, activity, or mutual support—can reduce isolation and make connection feel safer and more sustainable.
Reclaim connection. Call it talking, processing, venting—call it whatever you need. The label matters less than the act.
The patriarchy doesn’t just pressure men to look a certain way, it pressures them to be alone. And loneliness, quietly and persistently, is one of its most damaging outcomes.
Connection isn’t a threat to strength. It’s how we survive.
If this resonates, you don’t have to hold it alone. I will be offering a men’s group ,starting this June, designed to create space for honest conversation, connection, and shared humanity. If you’re curious or interested in learning more, reach out to for details.
Cheers,
Becca
