16/12/2025
It’s actually harder for men to heal than women?
Something I think about a lot.
And of course, how do we define healing?
(one for another post, but important to dive into this)
Healing for me is about restoring the capacity to be present, responsible and in relation.
Let's just use Nicole LePera's for now…
*"healing as an active, conscious and lifelong journey of self-discovery and growth that involves taking responsibility for one's own well-being."*
So why is it harder for Men?
(at this current time)
I think it is quite simple…
It's not because men are weaker.
Not because men don’t care.
But because, for most of human history, our survival depended on not asking for help.
If you hesitated, you died.
If you showed vulnerability, you risked the tribe.
Generations of conditioning baked in to the thick soup of being a Man.
Women, on the other hand, survived through connection, cooperation and seeking support.
Their nervous systems were shaped for it.
Ours were shaped against it.
Now everything is changing at an insane speed.
The roles.
The expectations.
The identity of what it means to be a man.
A lot is being asked of us at this time and that’s a good thing.
We’re evolving.
But evolving collectively always comes with friction.
Growing pains.
Resistance.
Old patterns that don’t want to die.
Healing is possible for all of us…
It’s just a different mountain to climb…
and it starts with admitting that we’ve been carrying the armour that no longer serves us.
So… we have to talk about healing the relationship with the masculine and the feminine…
as these are the driving forces that make it who we are…
I want to break this into two threads.
Not as answers, but as orientations.
Ways of holding this moment we’re in…
*If you identify as a Woman…*
Healing the masculine may begin with recognising what it has been trained to survive.
Not through domination or emotional absence, but through protection, endurance and self-reliance.
For a long time, men weren’t shaped to ask for help, not because they didn’t want to, but because needing others often meant danger.
Dependence was costly.
Hesitation was fatal.
That history lives in the body, not just the mind.
So perhaps part of healing the masculine is not asking it to soften faster than it feels safe to.
Not shaming armour that once kept the tribe alive.
Not confusing emotional silence with a lack of care.
Somehow, it may be about meeting the masculine without trying to change it.
Allowing trust to form slowly.
Letting strength and vulnerability coexist, rather than compete.
And perhaps, too, there is feminine healing here, where care does not become control, where support does not slip into over-functioning, where presence replaces expectation.
*If you identify as a Man…*
Healing the masculine may start with grieving what that armour cost.
What it protected and what it blocked.
If asking for help once meant weakness, exposure, or risk, it makes sense that the nervous system still resists it.
That isn’t failure.
It’s inheritance.
And yet, the world we’re in now is asking something radically different.
Asking for help is no longer a threat to survival, isolation is.
So maybe healing doesn’t begin with vulnerability as a concept, but with relationship as a lived experience.
Moments where asking for support doesn’t lead to exile.
Where responsibility is shared, not surrendered.
And maybe this isn’t only about healing the masculine, but allowing the feminine to exist within, receptivity, emotion, interdependence, to return without feeling like it takes away strength.
This isn’t about choosing one over the other.
It’s about integration.
About updating ancient survival strategies for a world that no longer requires us to carry them alone.
Healing is possible for all of us.
It’s just a different mountain to climb.
And perhaps the first step isn’t knowing how,
but admitting we were never meant to do it alone.
Would love to hear your thoughts?
Big love,
Chris
