Welcome to Inside the Therapy Room: Lad Edition – a real-talk look at therapy for men and what it actually means in the context of Men’s Mental Health Month and beyond. No jargon, no judgement, just honest conversation.
There’s a myth that therapy is all deep eye contact, tissues, and the words “how does that make you feel?” And let’s be honest: the idea of “talking about your feelings” still sounds like a trap to a lot of us. Not because we don’t have feelings, but because we’ve learnt, somewhere along the way, that saying them out loud can go sideways. You get the wrong reaction, or no reaction, or someone starts crying for you, and suddenly you wish you’d just kept your mouth shut.
“Yeah, I’ve been knackered, work’s been mental,” instead of “I’m not sleeping and I feel like I’m failing.” You use banter as a life-jacket – a way to say, I’m in the deep end, but I’m still afloat. Over time, you get fluent in disguise. But it’s tiring, constantly speaking in code. It leaves us disconnected — from those who might understand, even from other code-speaking men.
Therapy Doesn’t Always Sound Like Therapy
The reality of therapy for men? Sometimes it’s silent. Sometimes it’s laughter. Sometimes it’s chatting shit for 20 minutes before naming the thing that’s really hurting. And that’s not avoidance — that’s finding language for things we don’t easily have words for. The slow stripping back of a disguise that’s felt like second nature and survival.
Men often walk into the therapy room carrying the weight of what they think therapy should be: emotional fluency, tears on cue, a neat moment of breakthrough. But for many men, words aren’t the first language of emotion — sensation, behaviour, humour, or even the lack of words often are.
A quiet shrug might say more than a paragraph. A joke can be a lifeline, or a test: can you meet me here, without making it heavy? And that’s fine. Therapy isn’t about forcing a certain tone; it’s about being met where you are.
As therapists, we learn to listen for the story underneath the style. When a guy says, “It’s been a bit mad lately,” that might translate to “I’ve barely been coping.” When he says, “I’m fine,” but his leg’s been bouncing since he sat down – that’s a whole sentence right there.
There can be a world going on inside of us; of sensations, of unspoken things. But that shouldn’t be mistaken for shallow. When we stop being aware of our own interiors, we can almost forget we have them. Therapy is the process of getting back in touch with what feels vital and making sense of ourselves.
Banter as a Bridge
Humour in the therapy room is often painted as a defence — but it’s also a connection.
It’s how many men test trust. You crack a joke, see how it lands. If the therapist laughs with you, not at you, the door creaks open.
What often gets missed is that banter can hold a lot of truth. It can hold a lot of meaning – or none at all. It can also buy time and space. All are valid.
Silence Isn’t a Problem
Therapy with men sometimes involves long pauses. Not the awkward “say something” kind — the thoughtful “I’m figuring out how to say this without sounding… weak” kind. We don’t rush that. Silence is part of the conversation.
Because often, men haven’t had many spaces where silence was safe — where not knowing what to say didn’t equal failure.
When we don’t talk, it’s not always because we won’t. It can be because we’re testing: Can you handle this? And once we find out someone can — a therapist, a mate, a partner — the words start to show up. Slowly, messily, but they do.
The less we have to carry the fear of not knowing, the more space we open up for discovery.
How Men Like Being Spoken To
Here’s what I’ve learned, sitting on both sides of the conversation—as a man, a mate, and someone who’s done the therapy thing:
- Give me straight talk, not psychobabble. Say it as it is. The more I hear it from you, the more I’ll trust it and try it myself. No “inner child” unless it actually fits.
- See my coded talk as more than a barrier—see it as a language I needed to survive as a man and to relate to other men.
- Speak to me like I’m a full person—simple in some ways, complex in others, and with a lot going on inside. Respect that fullness, and the pace I might choose to show it, or not.
- Don’t focus on a “fear of weakness,” but on what it’s like to grow up in a world that requires me to be strong at all times, in all contexts—no matter what it does to me.
Men tend to respond best when therapy feels like a real conversation—equal footing, mutual respect, a bit of grit and humour where it helps. It’s not about simplifying the work, it’s about translating it.
We can talk about boundaries without saying “boundaries.”
We can talk about vulnerability without saying “vulnerability.”
We can say, “Mate, that sounds heavy,” and it lands more truthfully than any textbook phrase.
Because therapy isn’t about how you “should” talk—it’s about finding your way of saying things that matter.
Real Talk, No Judgement
At Self Space, we don’t expect you to turn into someone else to get help. You don’t have to have the words ready. You don’t have to sound like a therapist. You just have to show up.
However you speak, or don’t, we’ll meet you there, because talking doesn’t have to sound a certain way to start changing something real.