Men, Covert Depression, and The Power of Vulnerability
Reclaiming the Power We've Been Conditioned to Hide
My first experience with true vulnerability came three years ago when I chose to write about my struggles with anxiety, panic attacks, and alcohol abuse. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but all I knew is that I had to say something.
In my first post, I briefly recounted the outpouring of support I received after publishing it on Medium and subsequently deciding to share it not only on my personal social media accounts but also on my professional LinkedIn account.
I made that decision specifically because I knew LinkedIn wasn’t for that purpose.
To me, LinkedIn feels inauthentic. It’s a professional space where personal struggles are usually hidden behind a 'superhero' facade—even as we know collective mental health is suffering.
What I did that day was liberate myself from the façade. I gave myself permission to be vulnerable and let the world see the real me. It became important for me to let others know they can do the same.
This experience has sent me on a journey to understand why being vulnerable is so damn hard for us, especially us men.
I still struggle with this regularly, whether it’s admitting I’m wrong, I need help, opening up about my feelings and emotions, and pretty much everything in between.
Why is vulnerability, especially for us men, viewed as such a weakness in modern society? And why are we so uncomfortable with it?
A Brief Introduction to the Patriarchy
Before I get into this further: I’m going to talk about the “patriarchy” and how it also affects males. I won't be focusing on the patriarchy's effects on genders other than male, but that doesn't mean I don't acknowledge that they exist and are harmful.
Also, this isn’t a political stance, but rather my acknowledgement that us men are not doing well in modern society. Mental health is at an all-time low. Substance abuse and emotional issues seem to be commonplace now among men. (Seriously, talk to the women in your life that are dating and ask about their experience with men)
The person who opened my eyes to the patriarchy’s effect on men was the famous therapist and author Terrence Real, who has written some truly profound books on male covert depression, like I Don’t Want to Talk About It and How Can I Get Through to You?1
Real has worked with thousands of men, often brought in by their wives, who suffer from what he terms 'covert depression'—a form manifesting differently than normal depression due to masculine societal expectations.
But what is this “patriarchy” that we’re talking about?
Real defines the patriarchy as a deep-seated cultural system that rigidly divides human qualities into gendered boxes, exalts the "masculine" and devalues the "feminine," leading to profound psychological damage for individuals (especially men) and hindering the capacity for authentic intimacy in relationships. He sees it as a "life-threatening social disease" that we must move beyond to achieve true health and connection.2
What does covert depression look like and how is it related to the patriarchy?
Covert Depression is a Symptom
In Terrence Real’s book, I Don’t Want to Talk About It, he describes covert depression as the actual defenses against depression that men employ to cope with their pain while maintaining a façade of invulnerability.
He argues that while traditional (overt) depression presents with classic depression symptoms like sadness, fatigue, and loss of interest, covert depression manifests differently due to societal expectations of masculinity.
Think about the men in your life as you read through these. Do they resonate?
Covert depression is often:
Hidden from self and others: Men with covert depression often hide emotional pain from themselves, their families, and even doctors because society teaches men that vulnerability and emotional distress are “unmanly” or a sign of weakness.
Masked by “positive” or traditionally masculine behaviors: Instead of showing overt signs of depression, men may express their underlying pain through behaviors that are often seen as culturally acceptable or even admirable:
Workaholism and obsessive goal achievement: Pouring all their energy into work or competitive activities to avoid facing internal feelings.
Substance abuse: Using these as a form of self-medication to escape emotional pain.
Acting out: Engaging in risky or defiant behaviors, such as promiscuity, gambling, or reckless spending.
Anger, irritability, and aggression: Externalizing internal distress through outbursts of rage or constant frustration, which can push loved ones away.
Withdrawal and isolation: Disconnecting from relationships to avoid intimacy and the need to express emotions.
Fear of vulnerability: This often causes relationship issues as men are running from their true emotional state. “Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you tell me what is wrong?”
Societal conditioning: Cultural programming discourages men from acknowledging or expressing emotional pain. Boys are often raised to be “tough little soldiers” who keep their emotions to themselves, leading to a lack of skills in expressing feelings and appreciating deep connection.
Real's concepts hit me like a ton of bricks because I recognized these patterns throughout my life. I knew these things existed intuitively but never had the words to describe what I was witnessing and feeling in myself.
This fear of vulnerability, a core component of covert depression, has been a subtle but steady influence on my life. While its manifestations in men can be less obvious than overt depression, the impact is just as devastating.
The Traditional Masculinity Trap and Vulnerability
In my teens and 20s, I would’ve (almost literally) rather died than admit I was anything other than strong, independent, and an alpha male. It was not ok to be different lest you be ostracized and unpopular.
I've come to realize that we men are also victims of the patriarchy. We were raised to not understand or show our emotions, but if we absolutely had to, explosion was preferred over quiet but just as dangerous implosion.
Think about it. Exploding with rage means you’re passionate. You’re a fighter. A protector. Quietly imploding with depression, anxiety, isolation, drugs, or alcohol means you’re weak. Soft. Scared.
Weakness and softness were treated as crimes, physically and emotionally discouraged through family, school, and sports. We were raised to be the strong, silent type that never cracked—the expected role for men, husbands, and providers.
Think about your father. If you’re in your 30s or older, I’d bet that most of you had fathers that were on a spectrum closer to emotionally distant than emotionally intimate. We thought that was how fathers were supposed to be.
I was lucky to have the best father a kid could’ve asked for. Loving, committed, funny, and manly. I wouldn’t have wanted my dad to be any other way. Our parents have profound effects on us as individuals, but the older you get, the more you realize that everyone is trying their best to be better than their parents were. There isn’t a guidebook anywhere. No one best way to raise children.
Every generation, including our parents’ and now ours, are constrained by societal expectations of masculinity and femininity. While women have achieved significant progress over the last century, I believe men’s roles and well-being have actually declined.
Historically, men held positions of societal power—economic, political, and social. The pressure then became to secure more: more money, more power, more influence. In a capitalistic, patriarchal society, this relentless pursuit is often presented as the primary measure of male value.
What we men have failed to acknowledge has been the emotional toll and health consequences that come from focusing on external validation at the expense of our internal, emotional selves. And this affects not only us but those closest to us through mental health issues, substance abuse, violence, relationship issues, and more.
Quite simply, everybody is affected by the patriarchy.
Not only were we taught what masculinity was, we were also taught what was not masculine.
What We’re Taught about Masculinity and Femininity
Growing up, we quickly learned that anything feminine was wrong. It was weakness. It was disgusting. Worse yet, it was gay.
“You throw like a girl!”
“Quit crying like a girl!”
“What are you, gay?”
The link between perceived femininity and homosexuality within patriarchal norms is a particularly potent and often damaging phenomenon for men. Growing up, there was nothing worse than being labeled “gay,” though we used a more derogatory term in the 90s and early 2000s.
For a man, being gay was feminine. And we were taught that femininity was something to be punished for.
It wasn’t until I recently sat down and thought about it that I realized just how influential this single fear was that men could have any feminine qualities.
It’s affected my life in many ways:
It’s part of the reason why I still struggle to talk about my feelings with anybody, let alone those closest to me. Talking about feelings and emotions is soft. It’s feminine. And us males were taught to bottle it all up. Be strong. Be a man.
I say this in all honesty: In the past, having conversations about my feelings and emotions with loved ones made me physically uncomfortable. I couldn’t sit still and it made me feel gross.
It’s part of the reason why I’ve had trouble asking for help. Admitting you need help proves you’re not that strong alpha male and by asking for help, you’re admitting this to the world.
It’s part of the reason why I’ve kept my male friends at a distance. Any emotional closeness with a male friend is “gay.” Never in my life, through all my struggles with alcohol, anxiety, and panic attacks, have I ever thought to call a male friend to tell him I’m struggling or just need to talk. Not once.
This is actually timely, because I saw the below video the other day and I’ve probably watched it 25 times already laughing hysterically. It perfectly demonstrates males discomfort with emotions, albeit in a hilarious interaction.
It’s funny because it’s so true. “I’m a grown ass man,” why are you calling me to wish me goodnight and sweet dreams? “Don’t call me again doing this” 😂
In all honesty, we men are killing ourselves by holding in our feelings and emotions. We’re killing ourselves and our relationships through our inability to be vulnerable, even with those closest to us.
Our male friendships remain surface level even though we’ve had some friends for most of our lives. Yet we’d never tell them what we’re actually going through.
I would have to give myself a pep talk before I could call any of my friends and tell them goodnight and sweet dreams. That’s crazy, isn’t it?
Unfortunately, this is how men have been programmed.
My solution is for us men to embrace vulnerability as a superpower.
By embracing vulnerability, we have the opportunity to not only change our lives by becoming better in tune with our feelings and emotions, which by the way, will make us healthier and improve our relationships.
But we also have the ability to give other men the permission to do the same.
Can you think of what a world would look like if most of the men in our society had healthy masculine energy? It makes me hopeful to dream of such a world.
So, what does embracing vulnerability look like in practice?
How We Can Embrace Vulnerability
The good news is you don’t need to call up your buddy right now and confess your deepest, darkest feelings and emotions.
There are easier ways for us to start embracing vulnerability to implement change in our lives.
Start Small and Safe
Journaling
A really easy way to start connecting with your feelings and emotions is by journaling. This is something that nobody else has to see and you can write down whatever you’re thinking and feeling.
Journaling is a great way to make sense of what your thoughts and emotions and has many benefits including reducing anxiety, improving physical health, and regulating emotions.3
If you need help getting started with journaling, scroll down to the “Getting Started — Journaling Prompts” section here.
Choose One Trusted Person to Practice With
Unfortunately, we aren’t able to flip a switch and start having deep, emotional conversations out of the blue. We need some practice.
Find someone that you’re close and feel comfortable with and ask them to help. This can be a family member, close friend, partner, whoever. It might be helpful to explain to them what you’re working on so that they can also help ease you into these more emotional conversations.
The more practice you have, the easier it will be to have more meaningful, deeper conversations.
Challenge Internalized Beliefs & Assess Areas for Improvement
I’ve spent a lot of time lately doing this. Books have always been a helpful way for me to ease into this type of activity, so books like Terrence Real’s were helpful for kick starting me challenging my internal beliefs systems.
Here are a few questions to get you started:
What is an alpha male to you? Where does this ideal come from?
Think of alpha males in your life, whether people you know personally, famous people, or even characters from movies, TV, or literature. What are their relationships like with those closest to them? Do they seem truly happy and fulfilled? Do they have successful relationships?
Think of a current or previous partner: How would they describe your emotional availability and connectedness with them? Why?
When was the last time you were truly vulnerable with another human being? How did it feel? What did you learn about yourself and others?
These prompts should help you start to challenge your beliefs and identify areas for your own improvement.
Initiate Deeper Conversations with Male Friends
This is an area I’m still trying to improve, so I’m working on this one with you.
There are two suggestions I have, both of which I’m still taking myself.
When you’re talking with your friends, ask them “How are you really doing?” This can help to push past the surface-level BS into a real conversation about how your friend is actually doing.
Share something you’re struggling with. Being the first person to open up in a friendship group can be scary, but from experience, it can also be extremely powerful.
(I hid my anxiety and panic attacks from my friends because I was scared they would think I was weak and unworthy of their friendship. What really happened was they showed me an outpouring of support and I had multiple friends tell me 1-on-1 that they too struggled with anxiety and/or panic attacks. All because I was willing to be the first to open up.)
And if all else fails, just call your buddies regularly to tell them “goodnight and sleep tight.” They’ll love it.
It’s Time for Us to Take Back Our Power
Guys, we don’t need to live like this. It’s time we acknowledge the challenges we’re facing and realize we can make positive changes in our lives.
It feels a little feminine, but I’m going to push through it: I want all of you to live happy, healthy, emotionally connected lives.
Let’s take our power back together.
I HIGHLY recommend these two books to both men and women, because they discuss the complex differences between men and women, including how they were raised in our society (the effects of the patriarchy) and why we have so much trouble connecting across genders.
You never cease to amaze me with your in-depth analyses….I am sure you are helping many others with your story, as well as helping yourself. 💗
Your piece powerfully illustrates how the social constructs around masculinity have deeply shaped our experiences as men and limited our emotional well-being. It’s striking how you trace your journey from initial resistance to vulnerability to a more honest, grounded view of yourself and those around you. This narrative resonates so strongly because you highlight the real human costs of covert depression and the unhealthy expectations of manhood—like your own struggle to ask for help or share your inner life. Your honesty in naming and confronting these barriers, and your willingness to talk about the patriarchy’s damage to men as well as women, makes your insights even more compelling.
What I find especially valuable in this piece is the practical path you carve out for others: journaling, leaning on trusted friends, and challenging internalized ideals of masculinity. You demonstrate that vulnerability is not only possible but also essential for healthier, more authentic relationships—with ourselves and others. Your call for us men to “take back our power” by embracing vulnerability feels urgent and hopeful. It’s a powerful reminder that healing and growth come when we dare to show our true selves, even when it’s messy and uncomfortable.