Moving forward: Men’s Health Week

Last week was Men’s Health Week.

I wasn’t planning to post anything.

Clearly, very few of us were.

Because as the days passed, I kept noticing how quiet it felt.

A couple of articles. A few posts here and there from mates.

But not much.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if the silence said more than we think.

Maybe this aversion we feel to speaking on these topics is part of the issue.

I’m guilty of it too. Since 2022, my life has shifted in ways I didn’t expect.

Some of those shifts were deeply personal, and I’ve kept those things largely to myself.

One of them was the closure of my beautiful marriage of 17 years.

Like most things that really matter, it wasn’t simple or easy.

And it’s a new normal that’s still evolving, even three years later.

But it changed my life, in the best ways, eventually.

It made me more grounded.

More aware of what really matters.

It forced me to sit with discomfort.

To ask better questions.

And let go of old patterns I didn’t even know I was carrying.

There’s a sense of pride there, too.

Pride, and gratitude.

Pride, because throughout that time, I still turned up.

Pride because I still committed to my team, to the work, to my kids.

Pride because I still flew across the globe to ride 500km for charity.

Even on days I didn’t feel like I had much left in the tank.

This season stretched me in every direction.

Emotional, familial, legal.

Even though what I do professionally involves a lot of hard conversations.

I’ve never squared this one. Not at this depth.

And truthfully there’s still more I want to understand.

Still more I want to get right.

Because this hasn’t just been a personal transition; it’s been a family one.

And I carry a deep intention to continue holding those relationships with care into the coming years and decades.

Even holding the positivity for it all now, it wasn't an easy few years.

Some days I had to drag myself.

Other days, I had to reach out; for support, for steadiness, for someone to hold space.

And that’s where the gratitude comes in.

Gratitude because I didn’t carry this alone.

Because people answered when I asked.

Because I got to walk through this with my kids, too.

And I’ve never been prouder of them than I am now.

But even now, holding gratitude and clarity, I can see how heavy those years really were.

And I’ve been thinking, maybe that’s part of it.

Maybe that’s what we do, as men.

We get through the hard thing by focusing on what went wrong.

What broke. What hurt. What we lost.

Whether it’s the end of a relationship, the death of someone we love, losing a job, missing a goal, or falling short of a standard we quietly set for ourselves. 

So we zero in on the pain, because that’s what survival requires in the moment. And it gives us activation energy to move. To operate.

Because when you’ve got people who depend on you; kids, family, a team, clients. You have to keep moving.

But time passes.

And the pain softens.

And suddenly the good memories come flooding back.

And the grief changes shape.

You’re no longer focused on the ending, you’re focused on the good parts.

And it catches you off guard.

Maybe part of this work, for us, is learning to hold both.

And not just hold them for ourselves, but for others too.

To check in. To speak up. To let the armour crack, just a little.

Because the numbers are sobering.

Of the ~3,000 lives lost to suicide in Australia each year, around 75% are men.

That’s more than two thousand fathers, sons, brothers, mates.

Men who couldn’t find a way to speak the thing out loud.

It’s not a solution for every single situation. Few things are.

And we don’t have to fix everything, everywhere, all the time.

But we do need to talk.

That’s where change begins.

Not in grand gestures or perfect words, but in quiet moments of honesty.

In choosing to say something when silence feels easier.

Because if we can do that, for ourselves, and for each other,  maybe fewer men will carry the weight alone.

And maybe more of us will find our way through.

So whatever season you’re in, whatever you’re holding, keep going.

You don’t have to do it perfectly.

You just have to keep moving.

That’s where strength is built.

And that’s where the future starts.