Men's Mental Health- Work Edition

It’s hard to explain the feeling of being woken up in the middle of the night to a loved one in crisis, contemplating suicide. There’s fear and adrenaline mixed with helplessness, on both sides of the line.

June is Men’s Mental Health Month, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the various men throughout my life who’ve struggled with mental health including suicidal ideation. Some are no longer with us.

These aren’t weak men. They were—and are—kind, loving, and smart. They often carry past pain and current overwhelm they don’t know how to “fix” or how to ask for help.

And these men have jobs. For many of them, the workplace is one of the few places they show up consistently. Are they showing signs of struggling? Probably. But how many people have the tools to recognize those signs or know what to do next? How many will simply say, “It’s up to them to take accountability for their health,” and leave it at that? We spend more time at work than almost anywhere else. So when someone is unwell—emotionally, physically, or relationally—it often shows up at work first.

Are we paying attention?

Instead of responding with curiosity and care, we often double down on harmful norms. We reward overwork. We treat burnout or pushing through pain like a badge of honour. For many men, the message is still: be productive, get the job done, and don’t ask for help.

Change also starts with how we talk about men. We have to watch our language and how we make generalizations. I’m just as guilty. I’ve had to take a hard look at where my own frustration and pain come out as judgments, catching myself saying things like “just another typical white man.” Discharged emotions might feel justified in the moment, but I know those statements don’t help anyone. They just keep the pain circulating. We can’t invite men into vulnerability and then shame them with our language. If I want to create safe space, I need to BE a safe space.

In BC, employers have a legal duty to inquire and accommodate when mental health may be affecting workplace performance. As leaders, we have to ask: Which man on your team would feel safe enough to raise his hand and say, “I’m not okay” and believe someone would actually have the skills, resources, or time to help him?

But we’re not powerless.

What if we…

• Educated ourselves and our teams to recognize subtle signs of struggle, instead of waiting for a breaking point?

• Normalized emotional literacy and trauma-informed cultures, without making it “just an HR thing”?

• Caught ourselves when using harmful language that shames, stereotypes, or shuts people down? Dehumanizing language doesn’t just reflect existing bias but it builds and reinforces the systems that allow it to persist. We can do better.

• Recognized the intersectionality of the individual. Cultural background, race, gender identity, and lived experience all influence how someone expresses distress. Do they feel safe accessing support? Some men, particularly those from racialized or immigrant communities, may face added stigma, fear, or systemic barriers when it comes to using mental health support.

• Modeled emotional openness ourselves. Leaders don’t need to be flawless, they need to be real. Sharing how you manage stress or navigate personal challenges allows for others to speak up and share.

• Created quieter, safer entry points for support. Anonymous feedback forms, openly marketed mental health resources, or peer support spaces can make a difference., especially for those who don’t want to be “seen struggling.”

  
  

If you’re reflecting on how your workplace can better support men’s mental health—or anyone gender dealing with stress, grief, or overwhelm—you’re not alone.

I work with teams and leaders to build healthy, trauma-informed cultures rooted in psychological safety, emotional awareness, and values-based leadership. Coaching encourages reflection on our biases, the loneliness of leadership, and the ability to be there for the whole person, not just their performance. It’s not about having all the answers, it’s about being the kind of trauma-informed leader someone can turn to when they’re struggling.