The Male Loneliness Epidemic

During my years of practice, men of all sorts came through my door for therapy. Despite being of different backgrounds, races, and sexual orientations, I was struck at how consistently hungry they were for connection, especially with other men. With time, I began to see that my male clients often had smaller social networks and support systems. They had fewer people turn to when life got rough. Even amongst the most social of them, there was an undercurrent of loneliness that would emerge, something felt more poignantly if they were single.

It seems counterintuitive that the more the digital world has connected us, the lonelier we have become. Statistically, we have grown lonelier over time, and report having fewer close friendships than ever before. We are a social species, and these declines in human relationships have an impact on our health. Beyond the negative mental health impacts, the CDC reports that those who are lonely are at higher risk for dementia, heart failure or stroke, and even premature death. 

While women are catching up to men when it comes to rates of loneliness, men have often reported having fewer friends and social connections to rely on, with 15% saying they have no close friends at all. Yet, when surveyed, men often report wanting more fulfilling relationships.

Why is this? What is keeping men from these connections when it’s such a fundamental need? The answer is likely complex, but part of the issue lies in the unspoken rules men are handed as they emerge from boyhood.  

Especially in the west, masculinity has become tied to an unrealistic individualism. A man doesn’t need help. He can do it himself. He’s a lone wolf, forging his way through sheer grit. In relationships with other men, he keeps himself at a distance, talking only about football, or hunting, or beer. In a pinch, he defaults to talking about work, the topic that dominates the world of men and their impression of their own worth. Beneath all of this, there is a deeply felt lack of permission to be authentic and to show the complex inner world he lives in. This lack of permission can become so internalized that he shuts his emotions off altogether, hiding them from others and even from himself.  

Emotional expression can become so foreign that he may actively avoid it in others as well. Even just witnessing the emotions of other men becomes uncomfortable. He may distance himself out of self-protection, yet this only perpetuates the isolation and loneliness they feel. 

There is a common thread through all of this, and it underpins the invisible wall men often feel between one another. That thread is vulnerability. The word comes from the Latin vulnerare meaning “to wound”. Vulnerability, then, is the potential to be wounded, an emotional experience that exposes the parts of us that can be hurt. This exposure can be uncomfortable for anyone, but considering the deeply ingrained belief of many men that they must avoid feeling weak, vulnerability can feel excruciating.  

For men, these parts are vulnerable because they have already been hurt before. Our culture can be hostile toward men who show their emotions, especially if those emotions are perceived “soft” or “weak.” Even as men are encouraged to get in touch with their emotions, the reception to their feelings of fear, anxiety, or grief can be cold to say the least.  

Recently in a discussion on reddit, a few men opened up about this dilemma:

• “There is a point in every man’s life when they have their feelings hurt, look for help, realize that nobody cares, suck it all up, and become remarkably stoic” 
• “Many men in loving relationships have been told for years to show their cracks to the women that they love, and to finally let slip their internal problems and fears, only to be met with dismissal, or even worse, horror.” 

James Hollis puts it this way:  

• “Men’s lives are violent because their souls have been violated… Not only are men called upon to do the dangerous, dirty, difficult job…, to hold up under pounding pressures, to stay cool and collected, they are also expected to suffer such wounding in silence and solitude.”
• “Most of all, they are asked, as women too have often been asked, to sacrifice their soul to serve some economic, political or cultural norm. They are shamed if they resist the deformation of their nature, shunned if they protest, and sometimes even martyred if their vision too strongly challenges the status quo.”  
  • Under Saturn’s Shadow: The Wounding and Healing of Men, p.106-107 

This leaves men in an impossible position: they crave connection, love, and friendship, and in order achieve that connection and feel truly seen they must be vulnerable. Yet vulnerability is an emotional risk, and many men have been punished for taking that risk.  

So, what are we to do?  

The need for connection and belonging is non-negotiable as human beings, so somehow we must find a way there through the mire of fear and self-doubt. Vulnerability can be uncomfortable, but it is also honest, and showing our authentic selves is the only way we can find a sense of true connection with others.  

There is one guiding light for men as they move forward, and that is trust. We can never eliminate the emotional risk required for connection, but we can take some educated risks by building trust with those who have earned it.  

Roughly defined, trust is that invisible feeling of kinship that comes when someone shows that they care and can honor and receive our vulnerability. As Brené Brown often puts it, they have earned the right to hear our story.  

Trust is developed gradually, a step at a time, one brick on top of the other. While it cannot be forced, there are things we can do to build it intentionally.  

Identify people who have already earned some trust 

Surely there are some people who have already earned some trust from you. This may not be a long list, and that’s okay. Deep, trusting relationships are not build with just anyone.  

A few qualities to look for in those who are worthy of trust:  

• Honest, but non-judgmental 
• Patient 
• Knows how to listen sincerely 
• Consistent and reliable

*side note: these are also qualities you will want to develop to earn the trust of others  

Seek out moments for connection 

Be intentional about spending time with the folks you’ve identified. Give them a call or ask them out to coffee. Reach out and show that you’re invested in the relationship.  

Take incremental emotional risks  

When connecting with these people, take the risk of sharing more of yourself than normal. Don’t worry about saying it just right. The important part is letting this person see more of who you are beneath the surface. If emotions come up, breathe and let them be seen.  

Open up a step at a time 

Trust is built through gradual self-disclosure and sharing more does not always mean it builds faster. “Oversharing” or “trauma-dumping” is not vulnerability and doesn’t lead to real connection. When opening up, think about whether you’re talking with this person, or talking at them. It’s meant to be a conversation with give and take.  

Be present and return the trust 

Make space for the other person to open up as well. Listen to understand, not to respond. Use present body language, facing them, arms uncrossed, with good eye contact and steady breathing. If they open up and share something painful or difficult, breathe through it and sit with them in discomfort. Holding that space for them is a powerful way to build trust and connection.  

Breathe through the vulnerability hangover 

Sometimes after we take those emotional risks we can walk away with the feeling of “yikes, maybe I shared too much”. This is a normal feeling after we share something vulnerable. It’s much like a good workout, leaving our vulnerability muscle with a bit of an ache. Take steady breaths and let the feeling pass. Vulnerability is an act of courage and you’ll be stronger for it.