Breaking the stigma: Why dads need to talk about mental health
When was the last time your dad opened up about how he was really feeling?
If you’re struggling to come up with an answer, you’re not alone. For generations, many of us have grown up seeing our fathers as the strong, silent types—the steady hands who guide a family with surgical precision, only one mistake away from ending everything but unable to fail. But underneath that guise, many dads are carrying a heavy mental load, far to heavy for them to fathom, and far too important for them to share.
Fatherhood is deeply rewarding—but let’s be real, it’s also incredibly demanding. Between sleepless nights, the pressure to provide, maintaining a partnership, and juggling work-life balance, dads are navigating more than they ever have. With growing responsibilities and expectations, outlets for dads to release have not grown by the same accord.
Studies have shown that around 1 in 10 new dads experience postpartum depression, and many more report feeling overwhelmed, anxious, or disconnected—but very few actually talk about it. Why? Because too often, dads are taught to "man up" rather than speak up. Men are not to speak up because, quite frankly, a shared feeling is “who cares?” For many men, the feeling of having to deal with the load alone is very real, no one should have to shoulder your burdens and we as men, are all dealing with our own. I remember encountering a short form video where a girl posed a question along the lines, when your world crumbles, which friend do you call first? It was kind of a show your support by tagging your friend in this video. However, so many video responses ended up being made where men would answer with responses such as “wait you guys have friends you can call?”, or responses like “no one.” This shows the very reality that men are dealing with in feeling alone in overcoming every problem.
There’s a deep-rooted stigma around men and mental health, especially when it comes to fatherhood. Society still clings to outdated ideas that vulnerability equals weakness, or that men are supposed to "just deal with it." Boys are raised hearing things like “don’t cry,” “toughen up,” or “be a man”—messages that become engrained in their identity over time.
By the time a man becomes a father, many of those emotions or lack of, are second nature. Asking for help feels foreign and can even feel like failure, something many men aren’t capable of facing. But let’s be clear: suffering in silence isn’t strength—it’s survival.
A dad’s mental health doesn’t just affect him—it echoes throughout the household. When fathers suppress emotions or carry unspoken stress, it can impact their relationships, their presence at home, and even their children's emotional development.
“A boy needs a father to show him how to be in the world. He needs to be given swagger, taught how to read a map so that he can recognize the roads that lead to life and the paths that lead to death, how to know what love requires, and where to find steel in the heart when life makes demands on us that are greater than we think we can endure.” –Ian Morgan Cron
Kids learn by watching and mimicking. When they see a parent who never talks about feelings or constantly bottles up stress, they see the internalization of emotions as normal. On the flip side, when dads talk openly, show that they are vulnerable but strong enough to endure and overcome it, the children are aspired to acquire a power beyond their current capability when the time calls.
So, where do we start?
Talking about mental health doesn't have to mean baring your soul to a stranger (unless you're ready for that). It can be as simple as:
Checking in with a friend over coffee.
Taking a walk and noticing your emotions, without judgment.
Speaking with a therapist, counselor, or coach.
Journaling your thoughts—even just 5 minutes a day.
Joining a men’s group or online forum where other dads share their experiences.
The first step is the hardest—but it’s also the most important. One conversation can be the catalyst for real healing.
This blog itself is a call to action, reach out to me via the contact page. Spark the conversation with someone very real. I may be able to share some insight or help you find the help you need.
If you’re a dad reading this and feeling a sense of connection, just know.. you’re not broken, and you’re not alone. You’re human. And being a strong father doesn’t mean having all the answers—it means honestly and earnestly doing your best and growing into your best. Check in with a dad, see how he is really doing, allow him to speak with no repercussions. I’m sure I said in my last post, If I can save even just one dad, I will be able to say my job is done. Not just from suicide, but even a dad that has simply lost his way, he isn’t present for his family. His walls are crumbling as his relationship is dying and his stress and failure is creeping into each facet of his life like a broken pot holding water. It’s bursting at the cracks; water is gushing out of every tiny crack trying to escape. Please, please, please, seek help if you need it. A recovering father is better than none.
Fatherhood isn’t about being invincible. It’s about being present. And the more we normalize emotional openness, the more we empower dads to show up as their whole selves—for their kids, their partners, and themselves.
Because strong dads talk. And strong families grow from there.
