Are Women Responsible for Men’s Mental Health Issues?

Masculinity has been stripped from young boys by the mummy martyrs of the world, mothers who over protect their young boys and who are raising boys alone.

There is something innately powerful about becoming a mother.
It changes you in ways no one can prepare you for.
Not language. Not logic. Not experience.

Shortly after my second son was born six weeks early, I drove with both boys in the back of the car. At the time, my marriage was already cracking in ways I could not yet name. Those cracks would later end an eighteen‑year relationship.

In that moment, I tried to calculate how fast I would need to drive to crash the car in a way that would kill me but spare them.

Words have always been my strength. Numbers have not.
I could not find an equation that worked.

Then a sentence cut through the fog:
You may not hurt them physically, but your actions will hurt them emotionally and mentally for years to come.

That sentence saved my life.

Dark Thoughts, Motherhood, and Male Suicide

Over the years, dark thoughts returned at different points. Later, while working on the anthology Alive to Thrive: Life After Attempting Suicide with therapist and lead author Debbie Debonair, I encountered research on male suicide rates.

My heart broke.

I asked myself a question no mother wants to ask:
Would my sons become part of those statistics?

That fear intensified for my eldest son, who endured severe bullying because of his ethnicity and nationality. This happened in British schools and international schools while we lived overseas.

As I explored men’s mental health more deeply, often over endless cups of tea with Alice and The Caterpillar, the scale of the crisis became impossible to ignore.

The numbers shocked me.
The explanations lacked clarity.
The silence felt dangerous.

How Society Has Confused Masculinity

When I zoomed out and examined the last hundred years, a pattern emerged.

Men have been forced into impossible contradictions.

Masculinity has been diluted, mocked, and misunderstood. Over‑protection, absent fathers, and social shaming have stripped young boys of healthy masculine identity.

Men who express strength face criticism.
Men who express vulnerability face ridicule.
Men who show tenderness in relationships face praise, until that same tenderness appears during personal crisis.

Then it becomes weakness.

As women, we often send conflicting messages.

We want men to show emotion, but not too much.
We want them attractive, but not too attractive.
We want leadership, but not dominance.
We want provision, but not control.
We want equality, but not difference.

We ask men to be present fathers, then criticise how they parent.
We want male role models, yet distrust men in caregiving roles.
We want protection, but not chivalry.
We want men to speak up, but not explain.

This contradiction fractures identity.

Strength for Women, Silence for Men

We expect men to hold us when we break.
We expect them to carry our pain.

Yet when men break, we often tell them to toughen up.
We still use phrases that equate femininity with weakness.

We ask men to honour our sovereignty while reacting harshly when they claim their own.

In the pursuit of equality, we confused “equal” with “the same.”
They are not the same thing.

Men and women are different by design. Biology alone proves that. Difference does not mean hierarchy. It means balance.

Instead of erasing difference, we must honour it.

The Forgotten Power of Separate Spaces

In our push for shared spaces, we lost something sacred.

Single‑sex spaces once allowed men and women to reconnect with themselves. These spaces offered safety, grounding, and restoration.

Without them, many people feel untethered.

At the same time, political narratives and media messaging fuel division. Men and women are positioned as enemies instead of allies.

We have seen enough war.

The Hidden Trauma Men Carry

For centuries, men fought wars to protect communities and nations. Governments sent them to kill, to witness death, and to leave families behind.

Later, machines replaced physical labour.
Then industries replaced men with efficiency.
Now software replaces problem‑solving.

Many men no longer know where they belong.

They get criticised for silence.
They get criticised for solitude.
They get criticised for wanting a space of their own.

When men show thoughtfulness, buying flowers or jewellery without reason, they face suspicion instead of appreciation.

If men spoke as much as women, they would be accused of dominance.
If they analysed emotions deeply, they would be labelled abusive.

There is no winning this game.

What Motherhood and My Work Have Taught Me

Motherhood taught me more about men than any book ever could.

So did my professional life across IT, publishing, entrepreneurship, education, human rights, and leadership coaching. So did my work as a trauma‑informed author coach.

Travel across forty‑four countries confirmed one truth: the Western world struggles most with healthy masculinity.

Despite the traumas I have experienced at the hands of men, abandonment, betrayal, sexual violence, I do not see monsters.

I see wounded men.

I see confusion.
I see pain without language.
I see unmet needs.

When men feel loved, respected, and supported, they do not harm others. Most importantly, they do not harm themselves.

Healing Requires Allies, Not Enemies

This crisis cannot be solved by systems alone.

Education must change.
Healthcare must evolve.
Justice must reflect humanity.

However, women must also heal.

Unresolved wounds from fathers, partners, and abusers shape how we see men. Without healing, those wounds get projected.

When men and women stand as allies instead of adversaries, everything changes.

As one wise man recently said to me:
When we stop traumatising men, we stop traumatising women.

This is why #ManUp  exists.

This book aims to reduce male suicide in Britain and beyond. It invites honest conversation, shared responsibility, and courageous healing.

Together, we can change this narrative.

Together, we can save lives.

If you are called to write a book for a cause you are, championing mental health, social justice, leadership, or human rights, I can help you design a publishing strategy that honours both your message and your wellbeing.

Book a consultation with me to create a plan that works for you.