🎙️ Leadership Lessons Bonus Episode 6
Title: Men Are Not OK!
Welcome back to Leadership Lessons I’m Dr. Fredrick Lee II. Today’s bonus episode has a title that might make you pause: “Men Are Not OK!” And I mean that—men, in this country and around the world, are facing a quiet crisis.
This conversation started one night over dinner with three good friends of mine. We originally met at SoulCycle—sweating it out in those dark studios where the music is loud and the energy is high. That night, we were at the Laurel Grille in Culver City, sharing food, laughter, and a little bit of real talk. Somewhere between appetizers and dessert, the conversation shifted to something deeper: the struggles men carry but rarely speak about.
And here’s the truth: everywhere I look in America right now, I see the signs. Men are anxious. Men are lonely. Men are burning out. The U.S. Surgeon General recently called loneliness an epidemic. And behind the statistics are real people—fathers, brothers, coworkers, leaders—who were taught from a young age that “boys don’t cry.” That emotions are weakness. That masculinity means silence and toughness at all costs.
But here’s the problem: when men are raised to hide what they feel, they grow up without the tools to regulate, to connect, to lead with compassion. And in a time when workplaces, families, and communities are demanding more emotional intelligence than ever, we have an entire generation of men who are silently drowning.
That’s what this episode is about. Not to shame men. Not to criticize masculinity. But to shine a light on the emotional health crisis that men are facing in the United States today. This isn’t just a men’s issue—it’s a human issue. Because when men can’t express themselves, relationships suffer, workplaces suffer, families suffer.
So today, we’re unpacking it. We’ll start with “Boys Don’t Cry”—the story of how boys are raised to suppress emotion. Then, we’ll talk about what happens when those boys grow into men who can’t regulate, can’t connect, and can’t lead from a place of wholeness. Finally, I’ll share strategies—for men, and for the people who love, work with, and lead them—on how to change the script.
Because the reality is this: men are not okay, but with awareness, honesty, and emotional intelligence, we can create a path forward where strength and vulnerability can coexist.
Segment 1: Boys Don’t Cry (12–14 min)
In the opening, we set the stage: men are not okay, and it starts long before adulthood. To understand why, we have to look back at the formative years of boyhood—where emotional habits are shaped, modeled, and reinforced.
Social Cognitive Theory, developed by psychologist Albert Bandura, tells us that learning happens through observation, imitation, and reinforcement. In other words, kids don’t just hear what we say—they watch what we do. They internalize the rewards and punishments attached to their behaviors.
Picture a young boy who falls and skins his knee. He cries, because pain naturally elicits tears. But instead of comfort, he hears: “You’re fine. Big boys don’t cry.”
What does he learn in that moment? Not that pain is temporary, but that expressing pain is unacceptable. He watches how adults react, he notices the withdrawal of comfort, and he adjusts his behavior accordingly.
And here’s the gem: “Telling boys not to cry doesn’t stop the tears—it just teaches them to cry in silence.”
Through SCT, we see this clearly: behavior (crying) is met with social cues (shaming, correction), which shapes belief systems (crying = weakness).
As boys grow, this reinforcement expands:
• On the playground, showing sadness might mean teasing from peers.
• On the sports field, frustration may be met with, “Shake it off. Toughen up.”
• At home, they may hear, “Stop crying before I give you something to cry about.”
Each moment becomes a “teaching trial” that rewards suppression and punishes expression. Over time, boys stop needing correction—the conditioning has already done its work.
That’s why by adolescence, research shows a sharp decline in boys’ emotional expressiveness. Dr. Niobe Way’s studies at NYU found that young boys often describe friendships as emotionally rich and intimate. But by high school, that language almost disappears. They report fewer close connections, less openness, and more emotional distancing.
And here’s another gem to sit with: “We don’t raise boys to be strong—we raise them to be numb.”
SCT also reminds us that kids form their sense of self through observational learning—seeing who gets rewarded, who gets mocked, and which behaviors “fit” their gender role.
So, boys observe men in their families, their coaches, their favorite athletes, and TV characters. What do they see? Stoicism. Aggression. Anger framed as power. Tenderness framed as weakness.
This is how masculinity gets coded. “When boys learn that emotions equal weakness, they grow into men who confuse connection with danger.”
And because these behaviors are socially reinforced—celebrated in some contexts and punished in others—the cycle repeats. One generation models silence; the next imitates it.
Now here’s the kicker: biology doesn’t cooperate with this cultural script. Crying, expressing sadness, or sharing fear activates the parasympathetic nervous system—helping the body calm and recover. When boys are denied those outlets, stress hormones linger longer. Suppression becomes the norm, but the body keeps the score.
That’s why men so often struggle later with anger outbursts, stress disorders, and cardiovascular health issues linked to chronic suppression.
Or as I like to frame it for social media: “Boys don’t cry isn’t just a phrase—it’s a lifelong prison sentence.”
And here’s where it gets even more serious. Boys never stop feeling. They just stop showing. Those emotions don’t disappear—they get buried alive. And when they resurface later in adulthood, they often come out in the only language men were allowed to keep: anger.
So what happens when those boys grow up—when silence becomes their survival strategy? That’s where we turn next: the adult cost of “Boys Don’t Cry.”
Segment 2: When Boys Don’t Cry → Men Can’t Regulate
Here’s the reality: when boys are taught not to cry, they don’t stop feeling. They just stop showing. And when all those emotions get buried, they don’t disappear—they build up, and they resurface later in life in ways that often cause more damage than if they had been expressed in the moment.
Psychologists like James Gross at Stanford have shown that suppression doesn’t erase emotions. It just keeps the body in a heightened state of stress. So when men hold everything inside, their nervous systems are still carrying the weight. And eventually, that weight comes out—in relationships, in the workplace, and in the way men show up socially.
Let’s start with relationships. Romantic partners often describe it as running into a wall of silence. When conflict arises, many men don’t know how to express sadness or disappointment, so they shut down completely—or worse, they let it leak out as anger. The Gottman Institute has studied couples for decades, and they call this “stonewalling”—when one partner just shuts off emotionally. And here’s the thing: men are far more likely to do this than women. Why? Because they were taught from boyhood that vulnerability is weakness. But in love, silence isn’t strength—it’s suffocation.
And this doesn’t mean men don’t feel deeply. It means the wiring from childhood leaves them without the tools to translate those feelings into healthy expression. So partners end up carrying the brunt of unspoken frustration, unmet emotional needs, and even anger that was never really about them in the first place. Like I often tell my clients: when boys aren’t allowed to cry, men end up bleeding on the people who never cut them.
Now let’s move to the workplace. In professional settings, men who were raised to suppress emotions often show up in one of two ways: detached or controlling. On one hand, you have leaders who avoid connection altogether—who keep people at a distance because they don’t know how to lean into empathy. On the other, you have leaders who only know how to assert control—because that feels safer than vulnerability.
Daniel Goleman’s work on emotional intelligence shows that self-regulation and empathy are at the heart of effective leadership. Without them, trust erodes, innovation stalls, and burnout spreads. Gallup’s State of the Global Workplace Report makes this clear—more than half of employees describe themselves as emotionally detached at work, and a big driver is poor leadership. When leaders can’t regulate, teams pay the price. And masculinity without emotional intelligence? That’s not strength. That’s silence dressed up as authority.
And then there’s the social piece. Men are lonelier than ever. A survey from the American Enterprise Institute in 2021 found that 15 percent of men in America now say they have no close friends—that’s up five times from just a few decades ago. Think about that. In a culture where emotional expression is shamed, men don’t just lose the ability to cry—they lose the ability to connect. The U.S. Surgeon General has gone so far as to call loneliness an epidemic. And the research shows that chronic loneliness is as dangerous to your health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.
But here’s the part that breaks me: loneliness for men doesn’t always look like being alone. It often looks like being surrounded by people—at work, at the gym, even in a marriage—and still feeling unseen, because the real self has been locked away for years. Loneliness isn’t about the absence of company. For men, it’s about being unexpressed.
So here’s the cycle: boys are told not to cry, men never learn to regulate, and it shows up everywhere—strained marriages, toxic workplaces, and shallow or absent friendships. And let me be clear: men are not the problem. Masculinity is not the problem. The problem is the script men are handed. The one that says “real men don’t cry.” The one that says “man up.” That script doesn’t build resilience. It builds silence. And silence is killing us.
But here’s the hope—what is learned can be unlearned. Social cognitive theory reminds us that the same way boys were taught to suppress, men can be taught to express. They can model something new. They can learn to regulate, to connect, and to lead with emotional wholeness.
And that brings us to the next part of our conversation: what do we do about it? If we know this is the cost of boys not crying, how do we begin to rewrite the script?
Segment 3: Rewriting the Script – Strategies for Men and for Those Who Love Them (15–17 min)
We’ve walked through how boys are conditioned to suppress emotions, and how that silence follows them into adulthood—into marriages, into boardrooms, into friendships. And the question we ended with was this: If silence is learned, how do we unlearn it?
The good news is this: what’s been modeled can be remade. Emotional suppression isn’t destiny. Social Cognitive Theory tells us that people can learn new behaviors through modeling, practice, and reinforcement. That means men can relearn emotional intelligence, and those around them can help create environments where vulnerability isn’t punished, but valued.
So let’s talk strategies—first for men themselves, then for the people who live with, work with, and love them.
For Men: Reclaiming Emotional Intelligence
1. Name Your Emotions.
One of the most powerful steps a man can take is building an emotional vocabulary. Instead of “I’m fine” or “I’m mad,” try naming the deeper feelings: anxious, disappointed, hopeful, proud. Psychologists call this emotional granularity—the ability to distinguish between emotions. Research shows that men who expand their emotional vocabulary are better at regulating stress and making healthier choices.
As I often tell my coaching clients: “If you can’t name it, you can’t tame it.”
2. Practice Vulnerability in Safe Spaces.
Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s a skill. For men, therapy, men’s groups, or even a trusted friend can become laboratories for practicing expression without judgment. Dr. Brené Brown’s research on vulnerability shows that it’s the birthplace of courage, creativity, and connection. The more men lean into safe vulnerability, the more capacity they build for resilience.
3. Rewrite Masculinity.
This is the hardest one—challenging the cultural script. Men can begin by asking: What does strength look like for me? Is it silence? Or is it courage? True masculinity doesn’t have to mean suppression. It can mean being both strong and tender. Both tough and transparent. Masculinity and emotional intelligence are not opposites—they’re allies.
For Partners, Families, and Colleagues: Supporting Men in the Process
1. Model Emotional Openness.
Men who’ve been told their whole lives to suppress need examples of what healthy expression looks like. If you’re a partner, a friend, or a coworker, share how you feel—out loud. Normalize language around emotions in everyday conversation. Show that it’s safe.
2. Ask Better Questions.
“How are you?” often invites a one-word answer. Instead, try: “What’s been the hardest part of your week?” or “What’s been bringing you joy lately?” These open the door for deeper conversation. Research in interpersonal psychology shows that specific, open-ended questions invite greater disclosure and reduce defensive responses.
3. Challenge Harmful Scripts.
When you hear phrases like “man up” or “boys don’t cry,” don’t let them slide. Gently push back. Offer a new narrative: “Crying shows courage—it means you’re human.” Over time, challenging those small moments helps rewrite the collective script.
The Bigger Picture: Society’s Role
This isn’t just personal work. It’s cultural. Schools, workplaces, and communities must play a role. Imagine what it would look like if:
• Schools taught emotional intelligence alongside math and science.
• Workplaces measured leaders not just on outcomes, but on their ability to build psychologically safe teams.
• Media portrayed male role models who cry, express, and connect, without making it the butt of a joke.
Harvard research on emotional intelligence in leadership shows that organizations led by emotionally intelligent leaders outperform those led by detached, authoritarian leaders. This isn’t fluff—it’s performance. It’s health. It’s survival.
The Change Moves
So here are three simple Change Moves to get us started:
1. Pause and Identify. The next time frustration hits, pause and ask: What am I really feeling? Name it. Don’t bury it.
2. Express One Emotion a Day. Share one honest emotion with someone you trust—no matter how small. Practice makes permanent.
3. Rewrite the Script in Real Time. If you hear or even catch yourself saying “boys don’t cry,” replace it. Try: “Crying is courage. Emotions are strength.”
Closing the Loop
Here’s the truth: men are not okay—but they don’t have to stay that way. What was learned in boyhood can be unlearned in manhood. The silence can be replaced with speech. The suppression can be replaced with self-awareness. And the script of “boys don’t cry” can be rewritten into something healthier, stronger, and more human.
Because when men heal, everyone heals. Families thrive. Workplaces grow. Communities connect.
And maybe one day, a little boy will fall, scrape his knee, start to cry, and instead of hearing “stop crying,” he’ll hear: “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” And that one moment might change everything.
Closing (4–5 min)
That night at Laurel Grille in Culver City, sitting across from three brilliant women who’ve walked life with me, I was reminded of something powerful: men are not okay. And too often, it takes the presence of women—friends, partners, sisters, mothers—for men to even begin to tell the truth about what they’re carrying.
But let me say this as plain as I can: silence is not strength. Suppression is not leadership. Disconnection is not masculinity. Men don’t need to be less strong—they need permission to be strong and human.
And I know what some of you are thinking. I can already hear the internet trolls loading up their comments: “Crying is weak. Emotions are gay. Real men tough it out.”
Let me be clear. That’s not wisdom, that’s insecurity with a Wi-Fi connection. Emotional expression doesn’t make a man weak, it makes him whole. It doesn’t make a man “less of a man”—it makes him a better father, a better partner, a better leader, and a healthier human being. And if your first response to men expressing emotions is to mock them? That says more about your fear than it does about their strength.
So here’s my challenge: if you’re a man listening, start small. Practice vulnerability—even if it feels uncomfortable. And if you’re someone who loves or works with men, keep making space. Ask deeper questions. Model openness. Push back when you hear outdated scripts like “man up” or “boys don’t cry.”
Because the truth is this: when men heal, everyone heals. Families thrive, workplaces improve, communities grow stronger. And maybe one day, a little boy will cry, and instead of hearing “stop crying,” he’ll hear, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
So let’s say it out loud: men are not okay. But with courage, compassion, and emotional intelligence, men can move from surviving in silence to thriving in connection.
Thank you for joining me for this bonus episode of Leadership Lessons. If this resonated with you, share it—with the men in your life, and yes, even with the women, because women have always been critical voices in reshaping the conversation around masculinity and mental health.
And for the trolls still typing in the comments? Here’s your reminder: strength isn’t hiding your emotions. Strength is having the guts to feel them.
And as always—change is constant, but growth is intentional.