Men In the Therapy room
Do I work differently with men?
The short answer is no. I work with everyone as they present — that's what person-centred means. There's no separate approach for men versus women; everyone brings their own uniqueness, and that has to be met on its own terms, not treated as a category.
The longer answer is that I read hesitancy and reluctance wherever it shows up. There can be similarities — an anxiety about what to bring, what to say, where to start — and I try to build toward the things someone wants to explore rather than expecting them to arrive ready-made.
Why vulnerability doesn't come easy
Men have been told for a long time that they need to be strong. It's easy to revert to type — hunter, gatherer, protector — when that's the shape society keeps handing back to you. Without strong role models showing that vulnerability can be a form of strength, it's hard not to hide behind a mask of invincibility. And if the chances to genuinely share how you're feeling are limited early on, the confidence to have that conversation later never really gets the chance to grow.
In sports teams and traditional male workplaces — building sites, mechanics' yards — the culture is banter, not compassion. Support and understanding do show up, but the fear of it turning into ribbing can be enough to keep it locked away. Boys don't cry, or don't take things too seriously — that stiff-upper-lip mentality just extends the habit of holding things in.
Strengths, not just weaknesses
Tom Brady talks about being the 199th pick in his draft year — almost unbelievable in hindsight, given the career that followed. He describes learning to see himself fully: not just physical and mental strength, but emotional capability too. He prepared for every stage of training and playing with that in mind, working on his weaknesses as hard as his strengths, because he wanted to be consistently at his best — including in the biggest moments.
Brady's shift in mentality is to appreciate the strengths and use the weaknesses to grow — because if you lose sight of your strengths chasing only the negatives, you lose the fair view of how you actually develop. That balance — physical, emotional, social, intellectual — is the whole picture. Neglect one, and the others get held back too.
When it matters most
If we can't see strengths in ourselves, or feel unable to express what's weighing on us, the stress of holding it in can have a massive impact. That repression can lead to anger, depression, and other issues — and without a way to manage it, it can become a very dark path. The statistics on male suicide are stark: men are more likely to take their own lives, and when they attempt to, they're more likely to use methods that are lethal and final.
What's also clear is that these attempts often come without warning, and without reaching out for help first. That worries me, and it's exactly why I want to be warm, welcoming, and make sure any man who comes to counselling can speak without shackles.
Building the bridge
Small talk — sometimes longer, sometimes shorter — I gauge it against how ready someone feels to settle into the "work" of the conversation. I allow more pauses, and I'll use shared interests to break things up if it feels like too much, too soon.
I really admire the work done by Menfullness — engaging men through practical groups first, spaces that aren't framed as therapy or "talking about emotions," but that can grow into that when someone's ready. You may have seen them on local news — groups like dads learning to do their daughters' hair. Practical, confidence-building, and a quiet way of building pride into relationships.
Provider, protector, needed?
There was a time when men went out to work and put food on the table, and that was simply how it was — provider and protector, no question asked. When industries like mining disappeared, so did that identity, and men had to find a way forward without the role that had defined them. Even now, with AI reshaping what work looks like, that same question — what am I for, if not this — hasn't gone away. There's more space today for people going through that kind of transition, more encouragement to find a new identity and a new way to make a living, and in some ways the old expectations are easing as they get challenged.
It's worth asking who men have to look up to, growing up — who are the role models that positively challenge them? If our role models are based around money, possessions, or treating women as objects, it can leave a kind of emptiness — a restlessness, a difficulty settling or feeling content with the smaller things in life.
In therapy, I often see that shift happen — a settling, an appreciation for the smaller things that felt out of reach before. Relief at being able to speak freely, which can feel overwhelming and liberating all at once. The world gets bigger and wider to explore, without that meaning it's darker.
I don't see therapy with men as a problem with the individual — I see it as society and systems, and it's on us to meet people halfway and tell them it's okay to feel. None of these stereotypes get fixed, or even fully addressed, in one post. This is about opening a door, not closing an argument.
However you find your way in —
Know you are welcome.
You can express all emotions — sadness, happiness, relief, anxiety.
If you're angry, I want you to tell me and work with it, so long as it isn't aimed at me or the therapy room.
You'll be offered a warm drink.
I don't judge.
We'll start and find a way, even on the weeks you don't know what to bring.
I will listen, and do my best to make you feel comfortable
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