How many of us have lost a man—a father, brother, husband, or friend?
I dare say everyone reading this has experienced the loss of a dear man from our life. Death is, after all, inescapable. However, the way we and the men we love move through the world can be more or less wholesome depending on what we notice, ignore, pursue, nurture, and how we engage each other.
Since 1992 June has been designated “National Men’s Health Month”. Bet you didn’t know that, though. Part of the reason we may not know this is because in 1999 June was declared “Gay & Lesbian Pride Month”, and in 2009 it was made “LGBT Pride Month”. None of these cultural denominations supersedes the other, by the way. It does, however, point out that whatever the “hot topic” of the moment is often paves over what was previously there.
There is an ongoing cultural narrative that men are afforded all of these “privileges” which, simply due to their gender, give them an upper hand on life. At one point that was unarguably true. As recently as the 1970’s women could not get a credit card without their husband’s signature. As we move further into an era that was once propelled by the feminist movement, actual statistics no longer support this privileged perspective. Women are more likely to graduate both high school and college than men. Women are more likely to earn degrees and go into accredited professions than men. Coincidentally, women also report a lowered overall satisfaction with their lives in recent years, but that is a topic for another time.
As the “privilege gap” between men and women has closed, another has regrettably widened. Death by suicide.
Men account for 75-80% of deaths by suicide.
Suicide is a leading cause of death in men under age 50.
Men are much less likely to get help for their mental health.
Thoughts of suicide are common among men.
For more information check out this source: suicide stats in men.
As I stated before, this is not about eradicating the struggles of one cultural demographic in favor of another. These statistics are shared to provide accurate comparisons between these demographics. Whereas 7% of the population “identifies” as something other than heterosexual or non binary (numbers that according to some sources have doubled in the last decade), we are told horrifying statistics about how many of these people are struggling with suicide. According to this source a devastating 41% of LGTBQ youth struggle with suicidality.
Suicide and suicidal ideation is awful no matter how you look at it. The simple fact that life could ever get to the point where a human could only see the end to their suffering through suicide is awful. It is also indicative of something deeply diseased and malfunctioning in our culture.
Looking at the numbers for suicide, however, comparatively, far more men are actually suiciding, seeing how men account for approximately 49.5% of the population. So just to run the numbers: an approximate 40% of 7% when it comes to suicidal ideation in the LGTBQ community, compared to 75 ish% of actual deaths being represented in a demographic of men under the age of 50 due to completed suicide. I’m not that good at math, but it seems that men are “offing” themselves in far greater numbers than the disenfranchised LGTBQ community members, yet no one is really talking about it.
So why are the struggles of one group being buried while the struggles of another are essentially glorified?
One opinion: it’s become “unpopular” to love men. It’s not culturally acceptable to express concern for them. It’s “anti feminist” to say: “Not all men.” But it’s literally not all men.
I am a woman whose father caused me considerable physical and emotional pain. I am a woman—who was once a little girl—whose body was “put through” experiences by a relative which were not only inappropriate, but which changed the baseline of my emotional and somatic reality for most of my life. I am a woman who was sexually coerced and manipulated by my own husband. I am a woman who was date raped. I am not some “unicorn” who has magically escaped being abused, gaslit, cheated on, and hurt by men. I’ve had my fair share, and then some, of abuse by the hand of the opposite sex. And I will still stand on a hilltop and scream at the top of my lungs: “It’s not all men!” Because it's not.
A wide statistical sweep suggests recidivism in criminal offenders occurs at a rate of up to and beyond 80%; that statistic is both for men and women, but numbers suggest that the people (men) who are committing these offenses are the same group, and that people (women) who are being assaulted or violated are having these encounters with the same offenders. I know that is the case with the man who date raped me. He had a “reputation” for molesting women in their sleep which is exactly what happened to me. The “inquirer” within me speculates that he, himself, was “playing out” some internalized trauma or violation which is often the case. It does not excuse his behavior, nor did it prevent my dear friend from threatening to “turn her dog on him” when he came around looking to justify himself.
My experience, in life and in my professional practice, is that most men have, in some way, themselves, been abused by people who took it upon themselves to either “initiate” or humiliate them before they had a chance to come into manhood. And, as we already stated above: men are far less likely to talk about it. Statistics back that up, stating as much as 70 plus% of the population—men and women—have had some type of “inappropriate sexual encounter” before the age of 17.
Men are just as prone to shame and internalized self-loathing as women are, maybe even more so. Men are “allowed” far less emotional bandwidth and are more often than not raised on stoicism, or at least have been in previous generations.
Brené Brown tells a story about a man who comes up to her after she delivered a lecture on women’s shame and boldly asked, “What about men?” And she replied that she didn’t study shame in men. He then went on to tell her how convenient that was, as his own wife and daughters “would rather watch me die on my white horse than admit to failure.” (paraphrase)
It is “unacceptable” for men to admit to failure, yet it is an unavoidable experience as a human being and it is necessary for us to face and integrate in order to grow. How can they live with that dichotomy? Men are no less crippled in the search for “perfection” than women are; it just shows up in different ways.
Aside from the very real struggles with mental health, shame, and perfectionism men are also less likely to seek help for physical ailments.
Perhaps the mental and emotional stoicism seeps into the body as the “masculine way” is usually a “top down” control mechanism that is (regrettably) upheld by our modern materialist mindset in regards to pretty much everything. However, it seems even more true for men that a lack of physical control denotes failure while succumbing to the needs and signals of the body and psyche is not only "not masculine”, but denotes weakness, and is rather a waste of time. There are tasks to be completed—jobs to be done! No time for muddling about in the messy realms of soul soma. Life must be practical.
As we wind down this little exploration, it suddenly occurs to me: whereas many women “hit” an inescapable “burnout” in our forties and fifties (frequently due to changes in our hormones, lifestyles, and often needing to recover from lifetimes of people pleasing) men are “hitting” something similar. And though none of us, men or women, in modern life are particularly prepared for the many resurrections required to come into maturity and experience true fulfillment, men particularly are not. By their very nature as well as cultural indoctrination their psyches seem more brittle.
How then does the great oak meet the storms of life if not to bend and sway? He breaks. He cracks. He topples. His roots upturned to the sky, the ecosystem he once supported left shaken in his wake. We, who are left behind, are left to compost what he once was, integrating his loss as best we can.
How can we support the men in our lives without leaving ourselves behind? We can ask how they are. We can encourage them with our care. We can stop blaming all of them for the wounds dealt by other wounded and toxic men. We can nurture them and encourage them to nurture themselves. We can believe them when they say they are struggling. We can extend our hearts and our hands.
Lotsa love to all of you: men, women, and whomever or however you may identify.
~Justice
What a gutsy topic to write about! Thank you, Justice.
"How then does the great oak meet the storms of life if not to bend and sway? He breaks. He cracks. He topples. His roots upturned to the sky, the ecosystem he once supported left shaken in his wake. We, who are left behind, are left to compost what he once was, integrating his loss as best we can."
This whole article is So needed. Sharing. These lines in particular made me weep. My father was a toppled oak, by the time he died. I tried too hard, perhaps, to forge a deeper connection with him in his last months. It was heartbreaking to face the fact that it would never happen, and to face what he had willingly given up of himself in order to fulfill his role as the provider. Or maybe that he had been absent to himself (as well as emotionally absent to the rest of the family) for most if not all of his life.
And then, I recreated the wound of the emotionally unavailable, stoic, controlling, yet generous, providing father in my relationship with my former husband. And in the next two relationships with men that followed.
It's such powerful work to name, honor, and grieve what we have given up as a culture, in the Disney-fied/ Netflix-fied fantasies of the man on the noble steed, or the hero of the apocalypse that men are pressured to embody. Thank God there are men now who are doing the work of grieving and supporting each other in reclaiming themselves as whole beings. Thank God there are women who have been hurt by the wounds of men, speaking up for the men, giving support and understanding.
I grieve the loss of two younger brothers to suicide, that could not find enough support. One was my brother by blood, the other my brother in deep soul connection.
Thank you, Justice.