Beneath the Surface: What I’m Learning from the Men Who Come to Therapy

Something I’ve been noticing in my therapy room lately…

What you see isn't always the truth

Lately, I’ve noticed something changing in my therapy room: more men are coming forward for therapy.

And, as a therapist, I’ve found myself reflecting on this more than I expected. This isn't simply because there seem to be more men seeking support, but because of what I’m witnessing once they are through the door.

I’m witnessing emotional depth, vulnerability and pain. I'm meeting men who have spent a very long time quietly carrying things that no one else is aware of. Things they have tried to bury, ignore, overcome and endure on their own.

It's a real reminder that we don't actually know what is happening behind the version of ourselves we present to the world and those around us.

What we see isn't always what is happening

There is nothing wrong with responsibility, strength and resilience; they are fantastic qualities that exist within a spectrum of other qualities. What happens though, when strength and getting on with things becomes the only way to be, the only acceptable way to exist?

Feelings don't disappear because we choose not to express them. They find other places to go and find other ways of showing themselves eventually.

This may be working harder, being distant, withdrawing, frustration, keeping busy and distracted to avoid facing things, difficulty making decisions, to mention a few. Sometimes people are so good at hiding things that no one around them would ever know what they are carrying or the energy it's taking from them in order to continue this way.

We all develop ways of coping with difficult experiences. We all learn, consciously or unconsciously, what emotions feel safe to express and which ones we might prefer to keep hidden.

But I do think there are men who have received powerful messages throughout their lives about what it means to be a man — and those messages can sometimes leave very little space for emotional vulnerability.

There can be so much beneath a quiet exterior

One of the things that has struck me recently is how often there is more beneath the surface than we might initially imagine.

A man may walk into therapy looking composed. He can be engaging, successful, appear calm and capable, and in control and yet underneath there can be so much more going on.

When there is space to slow down and feel safe enough to start to look internally, things that were lying beneath the surface can come forward. Things that have never fully been processed or faced.

As a therapist, I don't believe we need to start with the right words. Sometimes feelings, emotions and experiences can be hard to label or identify. There is no wrong in this process; working together to navigate these things is what is important, not using certain terminology. Being supported to face things with someone you trust is the thing that matters, and going at your pace.

Sometimes things happen a long time ago; there is no timeline on when the effects of something are no longer valid. Everything is valid.

“I think I need some help.”

Walking into a therapy room is not a sign that someone can't cope or is weak. It doesn't mean they aren't strong. In fact, I think reaching out to a stranger and entering into this process, developing a new working relationship unlike any other you may have experienced before, can be one of the bravest things anyone can do. It takes courage.

Therapy offers a place to pause.

A place to have space for you, without anyone else's opinions affecting your view on things or the decisions or feelings you feel.

It's a place where you can think, a rare opportunity in today's busy, fast-paced, noisy society where there is always someone or something demanding our attention.

It's a place to step outside the roles and responsibilities we carry every day and ask: what is actually going on for me?

It's a place to verbalise and be honest with the bits of you and your life that are not comfortable, maybe ugly. It's a place to look at the things you may not like in your life, without judgement, being told what to do or how you should be.

This can be difficult but also incredibly freeing.

We shouldn't have to wait until we're falling apart

I find myself saying this quite often, as people have this misconception that therapy is only for when things are in crisis. It's not.

Yes, people do come when times are more challenging, but equally, you don't need to have a major crisis going on in order to feel worthy enough to come.

You don't need a diagnosis; you don't need to have fancy words to describe what is happening or even know what you want.

You are worthy of this, just as you are, and you matter.

To the men who are quietly carrying more than people realise

If you're reading this and recognising something of yourself, perhaps this is your invitation to pause. If you're more tired than usual and everyone around you thinks you're doing ok, but the heaviness you feel is increasing, then maybe this is your time to stop.

Take a breath.

If you're struggling in a relationship, job, feeling life pressures, feeling more irritable than normal or feel too much pressure in your head, maybe take some time to consider what you need.

If something doesn't feel right and you don't know where to turn, perhaps therapy might be a place to start. It doesn't mean you're broken or that you're weak. No one can carry heaviness for an extended period of time without feeling the effects.

Everyone needs to rest, and therapy can be the place where you can put these things down and let go for a while.

Because beneath the surface of every person is a whole inner world that isn't always visible to everyone else.

And sometimes, therapy is the place where that hidden part of you finally gets some space, some understanding and, perhaps most importantly, a voice.