June is National Men's Mental Health Month, and I have a confession to make:

I'm a doctor who doesn't really like going to the doctor–any kind of doctor.

Now, before the strongly worded emails start coming in, let me clarify: most doctors are wonderful people. The problem isn't them. The problem is me.

Like many men, I'm pretty good at convincing myself that things can wait. A nagging symptom? Probably nothing. Stress building up? I'll deal with it later. Something doesn't feel quite right? Let's give it a few more weeks and see what happens.

If that sounds familiar, you're not alone.

Many of us were taught—directly or indirectly—that being strong means handling things ourselves, pushing through discomfort, and avoiding burdening others. When it comes to our health, that mindset can become a recipe for problems that are much harder to address later.

The truth is that men's health deserves attention—not because men are fragile, but because we are human.

The numbers tell an important story.

Nearly one in five men experiences a mental health condition in a given year. Yet fewer than half of men with a diagnosed mental health condition receive treatment. That means millions of men are struggling without support.

The consequences can be devastating. Suicide rates among men are nearly four times higher than among women.

Part of the challenge is that mental health concerns don't always look the way people expect them to.

Depression, for example, isn't always sadness. In men, it may show up as irritability, anger, fatigue, increased risk-taking, physical complaints, withdrawal from loved ones, or simply feeling "off." Because these signs don't fit the stereotypes many of us have about depression, men often go undiagnosed, untreated, or unsupported.

There are other realities we don't talk about nearly enough.

At least one in six men has experienced sexual trauma. That's what we've been able to measure. Many experiences go unreported and undisclosed.

By the time they reach late adolescence, approximately 40% of young men have experienced adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) such as abuse, neglect, or household dysfunction. Research has consistently shown that higher ACE scores are associated with increased risks of heart disease, diabetes, substance use disorders, depression, and shortened life expectancy.

When we look at physical health, the statistics remain sobering. Approximately two in five men will be diagnosed with cancer during their lifetime, and many will face invasive forms of the disease.

But none of these experiences are destiny. Early intervention, honest conversation, and sustained connection can meaningfully alter the trajectory of a man's health—physically and psychologically. What matters most is not what has happened to us, but whether we have the support and the willingness to respond.

This piece isn't about doom and gloom.

It's about recognizing that taking care of ourselves isn't weakness. It's responsibility.

It's about understanding that health isn't just something we think about when something goes wrong.

It's about being intentional.

If you don't already have a primary care provider, consider establishing that relationship. An annual physical may not be the highlight of your year, but it can help identify concerns before they become bigger problems.

Talk with your healthcare provider about age-appropriate screenings and preventive care. Depending on your age, family history, and risk factors, that might include cancer screenings, prostate-specific antigen (PSA) testing, colonoscopy, blood pressure monitoring, cholesterol screening, or other preventive measures. 

If you are a cancer survivor, your health story didn't end when treatment did. Staying engaged with your survivorship care plan and being honest with your team about how you're really doing—physically and emotionally—remains one of the most important things you can do for yourself.

Stay up to date on recommended vaccines.

Move your body regularly. Let's be clear: movement doesn't have to look like running marathons or training for an Ironman.

Whether your marathon is Hood to Coast or Couch to Mailbox, I'm on your side. The important thing is consistency. Walk. Bike. Garden. Swim. Lift weights. Dance awkwardly in your garage. Find something you can sustain and keep doing it.

Pay attention to the basics that are easy to neglect: nutritious food, quality sleep, stress management, safe sex practices, and honest reflection about the substances you're putting into your body.

Stay connected.

Connection protects us.

Spend time with friends. Join a group. Volunteer. Participate in activities that give you purpose and community. Talk to people you trust. If it feels helpful, consider speaking with a therapist, counselor, coach, clergy member, physician, or another professional.

It is worth remembering that mental health care does not always mean therapy.

Sometimes it means finally talking honestly with a friend. Sometimes it means joining a support group, reconnecting with your faith community, seeing your primary care provider, addressing a substance use concern, or simply allowing someone else to know that you're struggling. There is no single right way to begin caring for your mental health. The important thing is to begin.

The choices we make about our health affect more than just us. Whether you're a parent, coach, supervisor, mentor, teammate, neighbor, or friend, someone is paying attention. When we seek help, attend appointments, talk openly about challenges, prioritize self-care, or support others in doing the same, we demonstrate that strength and vulnerability can coexist. We help create a culture where caring for ourselves and one another is normal.

If you're reading this and thinking about someone else—a husband, father, son, brother, partner, friend, coworker, or neighbor—check in on them. Not every struggle is visible. Sometimes a simple conversation creates space for someone to speak honestly about what they're carrying.

Men's health is more than medicine.

It's relationships. It's purpose. It's prevention. It's resilience. It's knowing when to ask for help and when to offer it.

Most of all, it's recognizing that taking care of yourself isn't something you do despite who you are.

It's something you do as who you are.

This month, schedule the appointment. Make the call. Take the walk. Reach out to the friend. Have the conversation. Check in with yourself.

You don't have to do everything today.

Just start somewhere.