Somebody Lied To Me

An essay on vulnerability, mental health, and men.

Lunch is packed. Shoes are tied. It’s a Thursday morning, and my six-year-old is on her way to school. My wife and I share drop-off and pick-up responsibilities equally. Often, when my wife takes her to school, our three-year-old will stay home with me, but on this Thursday morning, she didn’t. I had to take a call. As I kissed Raegan goodbye, she said, “Why is Sienna coming?” “Because I have to take a call in a few minutes,” I told her. Rae looked at me, puzzled as if I had just told her we were moving to Mars, and with all the earnestness in the world, she said, “But you don’t have a job….” Ouch!

Last month I told my family that I got laid off. I’m a Recruiter, and in 2023, being a Recruiter is like selling ice in Arendale. Work had been slow, and the outlook for future roles was ambiguous. My company hired me to interview, recruit, source, and create a future roadmap. After a successful year of hiring, my skills no longer matched the company’s vision. I’ve been working in different variations of HR for 15 years. I’ve conducted investigations that led to separation. I’ve seen employees let go for bogus reasons. I am rarely surprised by anything that happens in this field. Being on the receiving end of employment termination is not ideal, no matter the circumstance. I work hard to ensure my family is provided for and taken care of, and to this point, I’ve made career moves that I thought would continue to serve my family well. To have somebody else decide my future for me, to put me on the unemployment line weeks before Christmas, even if it was the right organizational decision, has left me in a vulnerable state, unlike anything I’ve experienced since becoming a dad.

Before the job search, it was around Thanksgiving of last year when I was in Santa Barbara, walking towards Butterfly Beach, catching glimpses of dolphins jumping out of the Pacific Ocean. Santa Barbara is my happy place, and let’s be honest, how could it not be? Great beaches, great food, great weather, come on! Plus, you’ve got McConnell’s Ice Cream downtown and Rori’s Ice Cream in Montecito, so really, does anything else compare? My brother-in-law lives in the area, and any time my wife hints at taking a trip to visit, I immediately pack my bags. During this trip, I wanted to get up early each day and take a walk on the beach while sipping my Matcha latte. I’m talking about some real Nancy Meyers energy if Black people starred in Nancy Meyers movies. I put the headphones on, ditched the Disney Princess playlist that typically dominates my Spotify account, traded it in for Miiesha’s Smoke & Mirrors album, and considered what’s next in my journey. After completing my first Children’s Book, Is This Your Favorite Ice Cream?, I got the urge to write more intentionally. Understanding what to write doesn’t always come easy, but as the ocean breeze cleared up any clutter in my mind, the topic of vulnerability in men kept hitting me repeatedly. I pondered the idea, questioning how I had any authority to write in this field, but then I came back from vacation, I got laid off, and I thought, “Welp, time to get writing, my friend!”

Why vulnerability? Because vulnerability just isn’t talked about enough amongst men. Without any research, ask yourself what it means to be a man. If we’re talking about Steve Harvey’s Family Feud, and I ask 100 completely different people, what do you think the top five answers would be? You could probably guess strong, rugged, and maybe courageous as the top three. After that, you might get several words like athletic, provider, sacrificer, or loud. Depending on who you ask, you may also get some less appealing words like lazy, arrogant, or irresponsible. But if you ask 100 people for 100 different words, the one word I would bet money on not hearing is vulnerable.

The dictionary defines vulnerable as “susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.” Being susceptible to any attack seems to go against our historical ideas of what it means to be strong, rugged, or even courageous, which makes sense as I think about the times I was told I needed to be tougher on the basketball court. To some, the concept of being susceptible to harm didn’t gel with their perception of what it means to be strong, so my tears were, in essence, viewed as a weakness. Growing up, what I thought was a natural emotion was stifled by the more traditional men in my life, and as a kid, you don’t know any better, right? If I’m told, “boys don’t cry,” then I guess I shouldn’t cry. If I’m told to “suck it up and be tough,” then I better pick myself up and get back to the free throw line. If I’m told to “be a man,” then despite my high-pitched voice and my pre-pubescent, clearly still a little boy body, I better learn what it’s like to enjoy Miller Lite’s and, I don’t know, go fishing? I’m sorry, I’m not sure what men do, coach; I’m only 9. And although the model of manhood that was shown to me growing up included anything but the word vulnerable, as a 36-year-old man, I’m starting to see the effects of that critical omission.

Men live five fewer years than women. In 2021, men in the US accounted for 80% of all deaths by suicide. In addition, 93% of federal inmates are men, yet women seek therapy at twice the rate men do. Looking back on almost everything I learned about being a man, I think these elder statesmen might not have known what they were saying. Men have less community than women. We are significantly more isolated than women. And for all of the physical strength we love to show off, we’re much more susceptible to anger and unhappiness, leaving me to believe that we’ve been focusing on strengthening the wrong muscles.

I’m not the only one to notice this change. Search the topic of masculinity, and you’ll find roughly 1 billion pieces of content from 2022 alone. I’m talking about anything from “All men need to die” to “America is trying to neuter men!” But what you’ll rarely find in the “all men need to die” category is the acknowledgment that men today have been born into toxic traditions and poor examples of masculinity. When those poor examples are viewed at home, in magazines, on TV, in the workplace, and in politics, it would be irresponsible to say widescale, overnight changes are realistic. Our responsibility is to improve upon the ideals we know are wrong. Still, there has to be a baseline acknowledgment that since the fruit we’ve been eating has had significant problems, correcting societal wrongs will take time. Now, you’ve also got your “Men are being neutered” activists, and I just don’t rock with that at all. When people equate gender equity or equality with a term associated with “removing one’s testicles from their body,” they’ve rendered themselves unable to participate in a coherent conversation that would lead to anything positive. I have less tolerance for this viewpoint than the former, simply because the former isn’t producing incels terrorizing their neighborhoods because they think they are owed sex.

While my sympathy is non-existent for those whose ill-conceived notions cause harm to others, I do have a level of compassion for those who’ve been encouraged to live life one way, only for society to change directions on a dime. Now I want to be crystal clear; we are not discussing drastic changes here. Over 90% of CEOs are still men. 66% of all bosses are still men. 100% of all American Presidents have been men. Men still make significantly more money than women for the same exact job. Men were not nearly as affected by the great resignation, mainly because women tend to be children’s caretakers, which affects their future earnings. Yes, society has changed regarding what will be tolerated in the future, but that’s like hitting a deep three to bring the deficit to 42.

Let’s put this conversation in context. Some men have lived exactly how society has encouraged them to live. This doesn’t have to mean telling wildly sexist jokes and running rampant misogyny in the workplace, though clearly, that man exists and is tolerated in far too many spaces. But now, and rightfully so, we’re asking these men to change. These changes in terms of how we talk about equality can make somebody feel like they’re being targeted — punished for their success, similar to how somebody who’s been playing Madden, winning championships on Rookie mode his whole life might feel like the world is out to get him after moving to Pro Mode, oblivious to the fact that the rest of us have been playing on Extreme Mode since day one. When a key tenant of manhood is to be in charge, these societal changes can invoke a sense of insecurity, confusion, and, dare I say, vulnerability, all of which are very normal human emotions. Unfortunately, instead of leaning into our opportunity to learn from our past mistakes, many have equated evolving with going woke, even though 99% of people who use the word “woke” couldn’t accurately define the term. The race to paint every piece of progress as a war against men has left us all angry, resentful, and worse off for it. Funny enough, acknowledging our emotions and being vulnerable with the people around us could unlock another aspect of manhood that allows us to live longer, be less angry, and genuinely enjoy our beautiful world.

75% percent of clients say that therapy is effective. If you can get 75% of people to agree on anything, I’d say you’re close to a consensus. Therapy is effective because you have a licensed professional educated in understanding human emotion and how our brains develop, work, and evolve as trauma occurs. That person can take our thoughts, help us process them, and then similar to a coach helping their team make halftime adjustments, they help by giving their clients directive that is almost guaranteed to improve their lives. Yet as I mentioned earlier, men are significantly less likely to seek therapy which is no shocker since, generally, men will only pursue a doctor when death comes knocking. It sounds like all that “be a man” talk is driving us to an early grave.

While a therapist is the safest option, being vulnerable with other people in our lives can be helpful too. Now, are you going to get some bad advice along the way? Of course, you will. One time I overheard someone say to a friend, “Just get married! You can always get divorced,” so yes, some people in your life can severely lead you in the wrong direction and then say, “we’re all looking for the guy who did this!” as they stand in their hot dog suit after crashing their hot dog car into your life. Friends can help you process your feelings, primarily because being vulnerable with other men extends an olive branch and permits others to say, “hey, sometimes I feel sad, too.”

Opening up to our friends is great, but the unlock is opening up to your spouse. 50% of marriages end in divorce. Your friend who told you “just get divorced” is certainly in the divorced category, but who is in the stayed together category? Let’s do one better; who do you know who’s in the stayed together and still thriving class? Because out of the 50% percent of marriages that don’t end in divorce, how many of those are thriving? You’ve got financial reasons people stay together, familial reasons people stay together, and a million other reasons I can’t begin to list here. Staying together isn’t an automatic path to a successful marriage, just like divorce isn’t an automatic path to failure. I know miserable people who are married, just like I know happy people who are divorced. But when it comes to divorce, I don’t think anyone goes into their covenant looking forward to it’s ending… unless the prenup was written in a way that is beneficial to you if it ends… Sorry, I just finished season 2 of The White Lotus.

So what do we think would happen if we brought vulnerability into our relationships? When we open up to the person we share a life with and admit that we’re feeling scared about a job change, or we’re nervous about an upcoming doctor’s appointment, those themes open up a brand new dialogue with your partner outside of the typical “how was your day?” “What time do I need to pick up the kids?” “Bachelorette or Love is Blind?” This doesn’t require a dramatic shift in how you show up for your family. Some men are afraid that sharing their feelings is for women. First of all, bro, what? Pick an activity that men tend to enjoy. You can still do that activity and be vulnerable with your spouse! It’s not an either-or. In fact, I would argue that opening up about your wants, fears, dreams, and hopes will significantly improve your life in a way that an affair never will. Psychology Today lists the top motivation for why people have affairs as anger, so if anger is what leads to an affair and an affair is what leads to a divorce, then what if being vulnerable about our pain could transform that resentment into a dialogue that leads to a healthy and happy marriage? I’m always curious if tiny acts of showing vulnerability to our partners could change the trajectory of our relationships by either opening ourselves up before the rings are purchased or when times get tough, as they always will.

No matter how you look at it, masculinity is changing and will continue to change for as long as we live. Change is the only constant in life, along with Tom Brady’s football career. The generation of men who came before us may have tried their best. They may have loved us in their own way, and that is admirable in its own right. But the data is clear; men are not okay. We have father wounds that we’re trying to overcome. We have misconceptions about women that we’re navigating in real-time. We have misconceptions about ourselves, leading nearly 600,000 of us to die by suicide each year. I am so far past trying to diagnose who is to blame for these numbers or questioning if we may need to “let men be men again” to help these numbers go down. I am done with unserious people allowing their narcissism and fears to prevent other men from getting help. I am done with millionaire talking heads who lie for a living, making their audience feel so damn anxious over gender equality that their followers abandon logic and common sense and turn towards conspiracy theories and paranoia to justify actions. I am over trauma being viewed as a badge of pride and vulnerability being viewed as a sign of weakness. The debate is over; we’ve been lied to, and if a man’s responsibility is to take care of those around us, then we need to start taking care of the people around us by taking care of ourselves first.

Now the first 2500 words or so of this chapter were written before December 14, 2022. The night of the 13th, I was doing hours of research on men’s health, vulnerability, suicide rates, you name it. And as I’m writing, I’m beginning to feel more and more passionate about this topic, hoping that through my writing, I get the chance to connect with other men I admire and start building a community focused on showing up well for our families. The following morning, I dropped my daughters off at school, and as I hopped in the car, I saw the notification, “Stephen’ tWitch’ Boss has died by suicide at age 40.” I was floored. Sitting in the car with tears running down my face, I wrestled with how someone with so much light could be fighting this profound darkness. I drove home to take the dogs for a walk, and as tears fell down my face, I pictured his wife and three children’s pain at that moment. I imagined the pain he must have felt to make death feel like the only option moving forward. He has a beautiful family, is the best at his craft, great looking dude, successful, notable, intelligent, and the list goes on and on. tWitch was a man I looked up to on every level. Knowing that despite his pain, he still managed to give the world joy just rocked me to my core.

I want to be careful not to project here because I certainly don’t know what his life was like outside of what I saw on The Ellen Show and his Instagram. But when a family man like tWitch chooses to exit life this way, I can’t help but wonder if creating a culture that’s accepting of our struggles, no matter our successes or failures, would help save lives. Would normalizing men’s health help prevent our loved ones from spending the rest of their lives asking, “was there anything I could have done?” Complicated doesn’t even begin to describe this topic, but it’s clear that the outward expression of vibrant lights does not shield against the darkest of thoughts. We don’t know the struggles that anyone is facing internally, but I pray we find the courage to be vulnerable with the people we love. I pray we can spend more time talking honestly about our mental health because talking about our loved ones in the past tense is far more painful than being vulnerable about our pain in the present.