Can we just be honest for a minute?

​On International Men’s Day, let’s pause the cheering and talk about the unspoken: the massive, invisible burden many men carry just to fulfill a role they didn’t choose. We often praise men for their resilience, but we rarely discuss the high price they pay for it.

​Society hands out a cruel and quiet contract: “You must be a provider, be a protector, be a solution, but never, ever be uncertain or emotionally needy.” 

The price of that contract is their humanity.

​For so many, being “manly” has been tragically synonymized with emotional unavailability.

They are fed this narrative of toxic strength that dictates that suppressing feelings (whether it’s fear, grief, or confusion) is the definition of courage. They internalize it, and they build a wall. Admitting doubt or asking for help feels not just difficult, but like a moral and masculine collapse.

​This is the root of the struggle… ​It is the anxiety that follows the student preparing for an exam or the father worried about the next rent payment. It is the deep, private shame when they feel they have failed to meet the towering standard of a “real man.” They are forced to put on a show of control every single day.

​It’s also the man who finds the simple joy of sharing a favorite song or dancing freely a risky task, because those moments of vulnerability might invite others to invalidate his manhood.

​This is why men’s mental health matters. When you tell someone they can’t express pain, you don’t make the pain disappear, you just force it underground. It festers, turning into isolation, frustration, and that silent desperation that nobody talks about until it’s too late.

​We need to redefine strength. Real strength isn’t about suppressing feelings; it’s about the courage to share them. It’s the moment a guy lets his guard down and says, “I’m not okay,” or “I need a helping hand.” That’s the deepest, most beautiful kind of strength there is. And we need to redefine manhood as well. 

​To all the men who carry this silent weight, who tirelessly play the roles of son, father, brother, and friend, yet still find the strength to smile despite the pressure: We honor your depth, your effort, and your full emotional spectrum.

​Let’s give the men in our lives permission to be complex, to be human, and to finally take off that heavy, invisible suit of armor. You are more than the armor you have been taught to wear. You deserve to feel as much as you fight.

Sadia Hakim