The Unspoken Struggle: Men and Grief
Robert Pardi
Author | Speaker | Coach: Equipping and empowering individuals and organizations to maximize their Return on Energy (ROE) to achieve optimal outcomes.
The First in a Special Three-Part Series - May Edition
Hey there,
I am assuming that if you are reading my work, you are interested in personal growth and living life on your terms – the foundation of why I created Possibility in Action? . Glad to have you here. My mission is dead simple: to empower people to remove the unnecessary, shift their identity, dismantle limiting beliefs, and strengthen their mindset to intentionally rewrite their life narrative. Enjoy today’s newsletter. If you are looking for more action, check out the challenge at the end of the article.
There's a giant freaking elephant in the room, and it's time we addressed it. Fire up the flood lights. This isn't some fluffy self-help article – it's a raw look at the situation I've witnessed: men left adrift in their grief. It's simply wrong.
This is the first of a three-part series about men and grief. It comes from a guy who walked his wife through her final days, found a void of support, and was expected to "suck it up." In the end, I sucked it up, spit it out and reimagined life. I did it alone, but it shouldn't be that way. Men, listen up. Women, this is an invitation to reflect.
Grief's Twisted Tango
Let's talk about grief. Now, before you click away, hear me out. Because grief, especially for men, is a complex dance of emotions – a twisted tango performed on a minefield where societal expectations clash with basic human needs. Yes, I said NEEDS!
But before we eat that elephant one bite at a time, let me share my story.
Desiree
Meet Desiree, a radiant force who poured her heart into palliative care, helping countless navigate their final chapter. All while journeying with her own terminal breast cancer. Her 11-year journey, chronicled on the New York Times front page, was a testament to her strength and the human spirit. For me, it was a front-row seat to the profound impact of loss and the confusing message men face: be vulnerable, but when we are, we're pushed back to "suck it up."
When Desiree passed, the world went silent. There was a hollow ache no amount of "manning up" could fix. Society tells men to be stoic, the rock, the silent pillar. But grief? That's a messy emotion they'd (society) rather we shove down deep.
The problem is that grief isn't a neatly compartmentalized box you can just tuck away. It bleeds into everything – your sleep, your work, your relationships. And for men, struggling with this emotional turmoil in silence can be devastating.
Calling All Men
Before we go any further, I want to be crystal clear: When I talk about men grieving, there are no asterisks, no qualifiers. This struggle extends to all men, regardless of sexual orientation.
However, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the specific challenges faced by same-sex male grievers. They often experience a double whammy of disgusting societal disapproval on top of their grief. Imagine losing your partner, your soulmate, the person who challenges societal norms with you, only to be met with a world that may not fully understand or accept your love. Studies have shown that same-sex partners often experience more intense and prolonged grief, further highlighting the need for targeted support.
Love is Love
That's right. Love is love, and grief is grief. No matter who you love, the pain is real and deserves acknowledgment. In the coming articles, we'll delve deeper into the societal messages that perpetuate this stigma for all men, and explore resources designed to support men on their grief journeys, regardless of sexual orientation.
This is just the beginning of the conversation.
Big Boys
Now, think about it. As men, we're bombarded with messages our whole lives: "Boys don't cry," "Be a man," "Soldier on," "Suck it up." These expectations create a pressure cooker of emotions, a toxic stew that explodes in isolation and silence.
Studies repeatedly show men are far less likely to seek help for grief compared to women. We bottle it up, retreat inward, and suffer in silence. Is this natural, or trained into us? I argue it's training.
Discomforts Voiced
The discomforts voiced most often when I coach grieving men go something like this:
"I feel lost, adrift. Everyone expects me to be strong, but inside I'm a wreck. I don't need to be mothered, I need to be seen and validated. But I also don't need them telling me to be a man."
"I don't need to go out drinking or someone offering a prostitute. I need it to be okay to cry in front of my friends. Women don't always accept it, and I certainly can't fall off my white horse."
Now, don’t get me wrong – these are common phrases I hear, there is no finger pointing. We, as men, have been sent mixed signals – it is no one’s fault, but let’s be honest – it’s a crazy sh*t show for men grieving.
The Cost of Silence
This pervasive stigma has far-reaching consequences. The internal conflict – the pressure to be unemotional while battling grief – takes a toll. It leads to increased rates of depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues. It creates a barrier to seeking help, leaving many to suffer in silence, and becomes a breeding ground for suicide risk.
Get Naked
Listen, I get it. Vulnerability feels risky. It means laying bare your soul, showing the cracks in your armor. That's one of the things that we need to change. Men, don't confuse your inherent strength with the thickness of your armor. Your real strength comes from jumping into the arena naked. It's the courage to acknowledge your pain, to reach out for a hand, to say, "I'm hurting," and not give a crap what people think of your masculinity.
A Badge of Honor
You know what grief is? It's a sign you loved deeply. It's not something to hide; it's your f*cking badge of honor for having let love into your core. It's a sign of bravery. It's the price we pay for connection, for the beautiful tapestry of relationships woven into our lives.
Time to Break the Damn Silence
We have the power to break down the barriers of stigma and create a culture of acceptance and support for men's emotional well-being. It starts with acknowledging that it's okay for men to feel and express their emotions – that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness, but a testament to our humanity.
Imagine a world where men are encouraged to express their grief, to seek support without judgment. A world where tears aren't seen as weakness, but as a healthy release. This isn't about becoming some emotional basket case; it's about allowing yourself to feel the full spectrum of human emotions. We are born with emotions for a reason. Screw those who don't want to see yours – they are yours to feel, use, and build from.
So, men, let's break the damn silence. Let's redefine strength. Let's create a space where vulnerability is celebrated, not ostracized. Because the only thing stronger than burying your grief is facing it head-on, together.
The Just One Thing Tool
We can't rewrite the narrative overnight, but we can start with a single, powerful act. Here's your challenge, men: take just one small step today to acknowledge your grief. It can be anything that feels right for you. Here are a few ideas:
Remember, there's no right or wrong way to grieve. Choose something that feels manageable and allows you to connect with your emotions. This "Just One Thing" challenge is a starting point, a way to break the silence and begin processing your grief.
By taking action, you're not just helping yourself – you're setting an example for other men to embrace their vulnerability and rewrite the narrative around men and grief.
This is just the beginning of the conversation. In the next articles, we'll delve deeper into the societal messages that perpetuate this stigma. We'll explore practical tools and resources available to support men on their grief journeys. Stay tuned, gents, and remember, it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to grieve.
Let's rewrite the narrative, together.
Super Challenge
I have a personal growth community where I not only provide weekly challenges, but we meet once a month in a group one-hour Q&A. It’s a bit more raw and unfiltered but for a specific reason.
It’s said when we encounter language or stimuli that are emotionally charged or provocative, it can stimulate the brain in ways that promote neuroplasticity by,
Therefore, why not harness strong language used intentionally, in a safe space, as a disruptor for habitual thinking to do just that?
That’s what my new newsletter is all about. See Possibility in Action? is the lifestyle – F*ck This is a mindset that helps you achieve it.
Join if you dare to dance on the edge of possibilities.
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Sign up here to stay informed about upcoming workshops.
You can also visit my website www.robertpardi.com if you would like to learn more about me, my philosophy of Possibility in Action?, and find free resources. Also, check out my YouTube channel for my musing thoughts. #possibilityinaction
Robert Pardi Author Page ere's a giant freaking elephant in the room, and it's time we addressed it. This isn't some fluffy self-help article – it's a raw look at the situation I've witnessed: men left adrift in their grief. It's simply wrong.
This is the first of a three-part series about men and grief. It comes from a guy who walked his wife through her final days, found a void of support, and was expected to "suck it up." In the end, I sucked it up, spit it out and reimagined life. I did it alone, but it shouldn't be that way. Men, listen up. Women, this is an invitation to reflect.
Grief's Twisted Tango
Let's talk about grief. Now, before you click away, hear me out. Because grief, especially for men, is a complex dance of emotions – a twisted tango performed on a minefield where societal expectations clash with basic human needs. Yes, I said NEEDS!
But before we eat that elephant one bite at a time, let me share my story.
Desiree
Meet Desiree, a radiant force who poured her heart into palliative care, helping countless navigate their final chapter. All while battling her own terminal breast cancer. Her 11-year journey, chronicled on the New York Times front page, was a testament to her strength and the human spirit. For me, it was a front-row seat to the profound impact of loss and the confusing message men face: be vulnerable, but when we are, we're pushed back to "suck it up."
When Desiree passed, the world went silent. There was a hollow ache no amount of "manning up" could fix. Society tells men to be stoic, the rock, the silent pillar. But grief? That's a messy emotion they'd (society) rather we shove down deep.
The problem is that grief isn't a neatly compartmentalized box you can just tuck away. It bleeds into everything – your sleep, your work, your relationships. And for men, struggling with this emotional turmoil in silence can be devastating.
Calling All Men
Before we go any further, I want to be crystal clear: When I talk about men grieving, there are no asterisks, no qualifiers. This struggle extends to all men, regardless of sexual orientation.
However, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the specific challenges faced by same-sex male grievers. They often experience a double whammy of disgusting societal disapproval on top of their grief. Imagine losing your partner, your soulmate, the person who challenges societal norms with you, only to be met with a world that may not fully understand or accept your love. Studies have shown that same-sex partners often experience more intense and prolonged grief, further highlighting the need for targeted support.
Love is Love
That's right. Love is love, and grief is grief. No matter who you love, the pain is real and deserves acknowledgment. In the coming articles, we'll delve deeper into the societal messages that perpetuate this stigma for all men, and explore resources designed to support men on their grief journeys, regardless of sexual orientation.
This is just the beginning of the conversation.
Big Boys and Bottled Emotions
Now, think about it. As men, we're bombarded with messages our whole lives: "Boys don't cry," "Be a man," "Soldier on," "Suck it up." These expectations create a pressure cooker of emotions, a toxic stew that explodes in isolation and silence.
Studies repeatedly show men are far less likely to seek help for grief compared to women. We bottle it up, retreat inward, and suffer in silence. Is this natural, or trained into us? I argue it's training.
Discomforting Truths
The discomforts voiced most often when I coach grieving men go something like this:
"I feel lost, adrift. Everyone expects me to be strong, but inside I'm a wreck. I don't need to be mothered, I need to be seen and validated. But I also don't need them telling me to be a man."
"I don't need to go out drinking or someone offering a prostitute. I need it to be okay to cry in front of my friends. Women don't always accept it, and I certainly can't fall off my white horse."
Now, don’t get me wrong – these are common phrases I hear, there is no finger pointing. We, as men, have been sent mixed signals – it is no one’s fault, but let’s be honest – it’s a crazy sh*t show for men grieving.
The Cost of Silence
This pervasive stigma has far-reaching consequences. The internal conflict – the pressure to be unemotional while battling grief – takes a toll. It leads to increased rates of depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues. It creates a barrier to seeking help, leaving many to suffer in silence, and becomes a breeding ground for suicide risk.
Vulnerability: Get Naked
Listen, I get it. Vulnerability feels risky. It means laying bare your soul, showing the cracks in your armor. That's one of the things that we need to change. Men, don't confuse your inherent strength with the thickness of your armor. Your real strength comes from jumping into the arena naked. It's the courage to acknowledge your pain, to reach out for a hand, to say, "I'm hurting," and not give a crap what people think of your masculinity.
Grief: A Badge of Honor
You know what grief is? It's a sign you loved deeply. It's not something to hide; it's your f*cking badge of honor for having let love into your core. It's a sign of bravery. It's the price we pay for connection, for the beautiful tapestry of relationships woven into our lives.
Time to Break the Damn Silence
We have the power to break down the barriers of stigma and create a culture of acceptance and support for men's emotional well-being. It starts with acknowledging that it's okay for men to feel and express their emotions – that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness, but a testament to our humanity.
Imagine a world where men are encouraged to express their grief, to seek support without judgment. A world where tears aren't seen as weakness, but as a healthy release. This isn't about becoming some emotional basket case; it's about allowing yourself to feel the full spectrum of human emotions. We are born with emotions for a reason. Screw those who don't want to see yours – they are yours to feel, use, and build from.
So, men, let's break the damn silence. Let's redefine strength. Let's create a space where vulnerability is celebrated, not ostracized. Because the only thing stronger than burying your grief is facing it head-on, together.
The Just One Thing Tool
We can't rewrite the narrative overnight, but we can start with a single, powerful act. Here's your challenge, men: take just one small step today to acknowledge your grief. It can be anything that feels right for you. Here are a few ideas:
Remember, there's no right or wrong way to grieve. Choose something that feels manageable and allows you to connect with your emotions. This "Just One Thing" challenge is a starting point, a way to break the silence and begin processing your grief.
By taking action, you're not just helping yourself – you're setting an example for other men to embrace their vulnerability and rewrite the narrative around men and grief.
This is just the beginning of the conversation. In the next articles, we'll delve deeper into the societal messages that perpetuate this stigma. We'll explore practical tools and resources available to support men on their grief journeys. Stay tuned, gents, and remember, it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to grieve.
Let's rewrite the narrative, together.
Challenge
I have another blog where I not only provide weekly challenges, but we meet once a month in a group one-hour Q&A. It’s a bit more raw and unfiltered but for a specific reason.
It’s said when we encounter language or stimuli that are emotionally charged or provocative, it can stimulate the brain in ways that promote neuroplasticity by,
Therefore, why not harness strong language used intentionally, in a safe space, as a disruptor for habitual thinking to do just that?
That’s what my new newsletter is all about. See Possibility in Action? is the lifestyle – F*ck This is a mindset that helps you achieve it.
Join if you dare to dance on the edge of possibilities.
Sign up here to stay informed about upcoming workshops.
You can also visit my website www.robertpardi.com if you would like to learn more about me, my philosophy of Possibility in Action?, and find free resources. Also, check out my YouTube channel for my musing thoughts. #possibilityinaction
Mission-driven, seasoned leader, believer in good, advocate for humanity
5 个月Robert, this is so true. In my experience men are more willing to open up about their grief if it's anonymously. Being able to provide support is essential for growth and understanding. Thank you for posting this!
Future Tech Strategy & Innovation l Emerging Tech & AI Thought Leader l Tech/Digital Equity & Inclusion l Social Tech Philosopher l Emergent Change Dynamics | UN Women - UK | STEMinist
6 个月I would agree it's socioculturally conditioned Robert. Thank you for the insight.
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6 个月Bravo Robert. I agree. We learn how to be in our gender roles throughout our childhood and early years of development.