June is ‘Men’s Mental Health Month‘, and honestly, it’s a time we need more than a social media graphic or a motivational quote. It’s a moment for us to sit down, face ourselves, and have the conversations we’d rather avoid–conversations about vulnerability, struggles, doubts, and the messy, human side of us that we’re often told to keep hidden. For a long time, we were fed this story about what it means to be a man. That a “real man” is tough, silent, impenetrable. That a real man is supposed to carry the weight of his problems without ever letting it show. That when we break, we break in private–or we pretend we’re fine and keep going anyway. But here’s the raw, honest truth: ignoring your struggles doesn’t make you strong. It makes you fragile. It cuts you off from the people who care about you. It leaves you stranded and battling your worst thoughts all alone. There’s a world of difference between toughness and resiliency–and a real man knows the difference.
Toughness says, “Don’t show weakness, or you’ll be weak.”
Resiliency says, “I may break, I may falter, but I will heal and grow from this.”
This is the kind of man we need more of in the world–a man who isn’t afraid to face his doubts, his anxieties, his disappointments, and his shame. A man who lets himself be human.
It’s not weakness to admit you’re hurting–it’s maturity. It’s the ability to say, “I’m struggling, and I need help.” That kind of vulnerability doesn’t diminish you–it deepens you. It makes you more compassionate, more understanding, more connected to the people you love. Picture a friend sitting across from you, quietly battling something you can’t see. If you opened up first–if you turned to him and said, “I’ve been battling something myself. Want to talk?”–you’d be extending a lifeline. That vulnerability signals to him that it’s okay to let his guard down, too. That it’s okay to be human. That we’re not meant to suffer alone. Your struggles aren’t a reflection of your worth. They’re a reflection of your ability to grow, to learn, to become more–more understanding, more compassionate, more alive.
Tolerance isn’t a weak word; it’s a powerful one. It means honoring your own struggles without judgment. It means tolerating your doubts and your disappointments, instead of beating yourself up over them. To be a man is not to conquer every battle without a single falter; it’s to learn from those falters, to appreciate their role in your story. It’s to treat yourself with the same patience and compassion you’d show a friend. If your best friend fell, you’d lift him up, dust him off, and say, “It’s okay. Try again.” So why do we deny ourselves that compassion? Showing tolerance toward ourselves lets us grow in ways we’d never grow if we kept ignoring or denying our struggles. It lets us learn from our experiences instead of letting shame dictate who we become.
One of the greatest misconceptions about manhood is that asking for help makes you weak. The reality is exactly the opposite. It’s a brave, decisive action–a moment when you take control of your own story instead of letting it spiral downward. Asking for help–whether from a friend, a family member, a counselor, or a crisis hotline–is a powerful affirmation: “My life matters. My struggles are worth addressing.” It’s a way of honoring yourself, honoring the people who care about you, and honoring the future you want for yourself. We all need help sometimes. That’s not a defect; it’s a part of being human. The strongest men I know are the ones who have turned toward their struggles instead of away from them–and in doing so, become more whole, more compassionate, more connected.
So this Men’s Mental Health Month, I want you to know something deep in your soul:
You’re not weak for battling something you can’t always control.
You’re not weak for feeling vulnerable, for doubting yourself, for needing help.
You’re human–flawed, growing, alive–and that’s something worth honoring.
Your struggles do not define you; how you respond to them does.
Your doubts do not diminish your worth; your willingness to face them deepens it.
Your ability to ask for help when you need it is a testimony to your maturity and your resolve. This isn’t about perfection; it’s about progress. It’s about honoring the human in you–messy, flawed, vulnerable–and loving it anyway. It’s about choosing connection over isolation, compassion over shame, healing over silence.
So throughout June, and all the months that follow, allow yourself to be a man in the fullest sense of the word. A man who feels, a man who struggles, a man who grows. A man who reaches back to help himself and forward to help the next. Because when we do this–when we become real, whole, vulnerable–we not only heal ourselves, we heal the people around us. We break a cycle of silence. We allow future generations of men to grow up understanding their worth isn’t defined by toughness but by authenticity.

love, trev