Why men suck at asking for help.

Sadness at the front. Party at the back.

I know we suck at a lot of things. Sometimes I’m astounded by our petty wilfulness around asking for help. Somehow, being a man in midlife makes it worse. We feel that we should know the answers and act like the responsible adults we never were. So, asking for help can feel embarrassing and surprisingly attacking on the little misplaced pride we tenderly cultivate like special mushrooms in the basement of our brains.

Being stubborn and not asking for help is like being a perpetual tourist in a remote place where no one speaks your language. Without your phone to look up and translate, it would be almost impossible to navigate the scenery. You know that you stand out because you look different from most people around you. They might even stare and point when you walk down the road. You probably miss vital social cues or customs and make a fool of yourself. Some of the onlookers find you funny and laugh. Asking for directions and not wanting to look vulnerable is a sweat-inducing moment. This usually results in a steep uphill walk for an hour, as asking a stranger where the bus stops was too much. Now, you are a little lost, out of breath, your knees hurt, but at least you have your pride.

The same goes for men asking for help or entering therapy, if we get that far. We don’t know how to describe what we are experiencing or what we need help with. We feel we need to learn a second language to understand what’s going on. We don’t see why talking about our problems would help either. Then there is a lot of self-directed criticism about appearing weak, experiencing shame, and fear- lots and lots of fear around being judged. If you made it to therapy, you glare at your therapist and, frustrated, blurt out: “Just give me the answer so I can go and do it!”

A sober conversation hits harder, though.

We tend to want a quick fix, an easy way to remove the symptoms, but not the cause. I always remind men that there is no fix in therapy, there is only change. If our aim is longer-term well-being, we need to dive eight pints deep into the problem, unfortunately, without the beer.

A lot of men I see in therapy want three things from me: to feel welcome and accepted, to talk to you in a way you can understand, and to give you direct, solution-based input when you ask for it.  As we work on the solution-based aspects, we also delve deeper into understanding why you are the way you are and why you struggle with the things you struggle with. We call it scaffolding- while we build and renovate, there is enough support, so things don’t fall over, or someone exits through an open window.

Life is challenging enough, and it gets worse when we don’t ask for help. Everyone around you suffers when you suffer in silence. If you don’t want to turn into your dad, do something he probably never did- ask for help and change what you can.