“I am good, just tired.”
The hidden effects of emotional struggle in men. Learning a new language, my path towards healing.
I remember saying, “I’m good, just tired,” more times than I can count. It was my automatic reply to many inquiries about my well-being — a mask for the distress I felt but couldn’t articulate. It was only after meeting people who were very open about their struggles and being diagnosed with light PTSD in my late 30s, that I realized my ‘tiredness’ was a veil for deep-seated psychological defense mechanisms.
“You know, us men, we love saying, ‘I’m good, just tired.’ It’s like our universal code for ‘I’m falling apart but let’s not talk about it.’"
In my quest for healing, I learned to decode the language of emotions that I, like many men, was never taught to speak. I began to understand that my irritability and anger were not flaws to be suppressed but signals pointing me toward deeper reflection and self-compassion. Taking the time to introspection, a supportive group of people, and therapy taught me the transformative power of vulnerability within a community. This revelation inspired me to inquire how to expand that from one-to-one conversation to other people who might be going on the same path. And it feels to me that everything starts with one sharing its own journey.
If the phrase ‘I’m just tired’ resonates with you, perhaps it’s time to pause and listen to what lies beneath those words. I invite you to read some of my words and reflect upon it. It’s an invitation to venture beyond the surface and embrace the healing that comes from emotional connection and shared experiences.
1 — The Lonely Wolf
The Myth of Solitary Strength
“So, I used to think being a ‘lone wolf’ was cool. Like Batman, but without the cool gadgets or the money."
A solitary figure on the landscape of life, mistaking isolation for independence. But as time passed by, the silence around me started to whisper what I had long ignored — that the strength I attributed to my solitude was, in fact, a fortress built on the sands of denial. I was not aware of how my lone battles of doubt and worry were not marks of valor but a call for a connection I had unknowingly starved myself of.
It was a self-imposed exile that I am now learning to return from, as I seek the warmth of the pack I never knew I needed. But every step taken alone is a heavy one, and the wolf’s howls are not for the moon, but for a pack he never learned to find. This portrayal seeks to illuminate the path back to the pack, to the warmth of shared struggles, and the strength found in collective vulnerability.
2 — Show me where you bleed
The power of vulnerability in forging connections.
“Men showing vulnerability is like trying to open a tightly sealed jar. You know it’s going to be good once it’s open, but you might pull a muscle in the process. And when another bloke shows his feelings first, it’s like he’s loosened the jar for you."
It takes a raw kind of courage to expose one’s wounds to another, to show where we bleed. For me, conditioned to shield my weaknesses, this openness often requires witnessing another’s vulnerability first. It is in the presence of another’s spilled sorrows and shared humanity that the armor begins to loosen. The narrative here is not one of weakness but of profound bravery, where the scars are not just a personal symbol of survival, but also a healing that took place.
It is difficult to peel back the layers of one’s armor, to reveal the tender flesh beneath. For years, I kept my vulnerabilities well-shrouded, until I witnessed another do what I feared most — show their raw, unguarded self. The courage of their revelation became the catalyst for my own. It’s a profound act of trust to expose one’s wounds, to say, “Here, this is where it hurts.” This chapter in my life is about finding strength in softness, bravery in honesty, and the bond that forms when one man’s openness paves the way for another’s.
3 — Brave to cry and stare
The Strength in Emotional Honesty
“Admitting you’re scared as a man is like saying you don’t understand the offside rule in football. People look at you funny. But let me tell you, there’s nothing more terrifying than a man in touch with his feelings. I once told a mate I was feeling sad, and he looked at me like I’d just said I wanted to knit us matching sweaters.”
In the absence of role models and extended kin, men find themselves navigating an emotional terrain without a map or compass. Admitting fear and sitting with it is not a surrender but a battle cry in a world that often equates tears with defeat. To be brave enough to cry and to stare into the abyss of one’s emotions is to confront the darkest parts of oneself and emerge not unscarred, but undefeated. Confronting emotions is akin to staring into an abyss — a daunting yet necessary act. Here, we delve into the humor and bravery of facing one’s fears and tears, much like admitting to another that “I’m just tired” is more than just needing a nap.
4 — The body keeps the score¹
Understanding Emotional Physicality
The unexpressed emotions of anger, grief, and sadness are not just mental states but engravings on the canvas of the body. Men are often unaware of how their bodies keep score, recording every unshed tear and repressed words. Emotions manifest physically, shaping not only posture and expression but also influencing the very wiring of the mind. Recognizing these feelings without judgment allows for a cathartic release, a burning away of the old to make way for the rebirth. The simple act of mindful breathing can become a bridge between the mental and physical realms, a tool to regain control and foster peace within.
My journey inward taught me that emotions are not just ephemeral spirits passing through the mind — they imprint themselves onto the body. This realization was a pivot point, an awakening to the symbiotic relationship between mind and body. I learned to listen, really listen, to the narrative my body is carving. By acknowledging these physical manifestations, I began to practice kindness towards myself and give time and space for feelings to emerge.
5 — Between anger and affection
Redirecting aggression into positive outlets and expressions of affection
Navigating from anger to affection is like trying to dance ballet after years of mosh-pitting.
There is a fine line between anger and affection, two emotions that often spring from the same well of passion. Navigating the nuanced dance between anger and affection has been one of my life’s great challenges. I knew well how to channel my anger, to let it fuel my ambitions, but I stumbled when it came to affection — particularly the kind that is not rooted in desire. It was time to unclench my fists, to release the old coping mechanisms that no longer served me, and to embrace the vulnerability that comes with genuine affection. In this, I learned to soften, to replace aggression with empathy, to find power not in the might of my anger, but in the gentle grasp of my heart.
6 — Sacred moments and places
The Power of Shared Spaces
“The men’s group I started? Picture this: A bunch of guys sitting in a circle, not sure if it’s an AA meeting or a book club. We’re breaking all the rules — talking about feelings, crying… next thing you know, we’ll be braiding each other’s hair.”
Sacred moments and places are not always defined by external guidance but can be discovered within the unexplored territories of the heart. Men often explore these feelings solo, reluctant to ask for directions afraid of appearing lost. Yet, within these moments, the greatest discoveries about self can be made.
In the spirit of those who have paved the way for men to express their deepest emotions, let’s explore the sacred moments and places where men can gather to reveal their inner world. A subtle admission that there was more beneath the surface, for emotions waiting to be unveiled.
Through therapy and introspection, I uncovered the profound power of vulnerability within a group. This revelation inspired me to establish a safe harbor for men like me — a place where we could freely share our thoughts, processes, and emotions, free from judgment, as we embarked on our individual paths to reconnection.
This article extends an invitation to those who resonate with the phrase ‘I’m just tired.’ It’s an invitation to pause, reflect, and listen to the emotions concealed beneath those words. I encourage you to read my words and consider joining our gathering. It’s an opportunity to transcend the superficial and embrace the process that blossoms through genuine emotional connection and shared experiences.
The Transformational Path
“So, transforming pain into strength is our goal. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? It’s like saying, ‘Just turn that depression into a bit of joy, will you?’ But really, it’s about finding humor in the madness of life. We’re all just trying to navigate life without looking like we’re reading the instructions upside down. And remember, it’s okay to say you’re tired. It’s just that sometimes, it means, ‘I need a chat, not another coffee.’”
The path to emotional release for men sometimes is neither straightforward nor easy. It requires dismantling deep-seated stigmas and the courage to confront and embrace one’s vulnerabilities. It’s not about transforming oneself through mere will but creating a haven within where transformation can naturally occur. By acknowledging the ‘lonely wolf’ within, showing our wounds, crying openly, understanding our body’s signals, balancing anger with tenderness, and cherishing sacred moments of introspection, we can pave the way for grace and love to heal our deepest scars.
This healing journey is not just a solitary quest but a collective stride toward emotional honesty and freedom. The journey towards inner transformation is a mysterious one. It cannot be forced, only facilitated.
This voyage through my emotional terrain has led me to a profound experience: inner transformation is not a conquest but a surrender. As I navigated the labyrinthine paths of my psyche, I found that the truest form of strength lay in the creation of space — for grace to enter, for love to take root, and for the self to bloom unrestrained. I write as both a map for those who walk a similar path and as an ode to the journey itself — a testament to the quiet, relentless power of the human heart to seek, struggle, and soar.
[1] Title of the great book by Dr. Bessel van der Kolk on trauma — https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/18693771
