The Hard Truth About Male Loneliness

Why Men’s Groups Help Men Overcome Isolation and Build Real Connection

The other day, a client asked me what happens in a men’s group. I started a new cohort of my men’s group this week, and his question caught me off guard. I didn’t respond with logistics or curriculum. Instead, I found myself just answering honestly:

In a men’s group, men get an opportunity to talk with each other.

That may sound simple, but it’s surprisingly rare. Most men don’t open up to other men. They don’t trust easily, and they don’t share their inner selves. And because of that, lots of men are just lonely—even if they’re surrounded by people.

Why Men Struggle to Talk with Each Other

When I ask my male clients about friendship, most can’t name a single guy they’d call a best friend. They might have coworkers, gym buddies, or neighbors to chat with, but few know another guy they regularly confide in, ask serious advice from, or lean on for help.

It’s not that men can’t form close friendships. It’s that most were never taught how. From childhood, boys often learn to hide emotions, “tough it out,” and avoid looking weak. By adulthood, lots of men are skilled at surface talk—but not at sharing what really matters to them. I’ve written before about why so many of us were never taught the emotional skills we need to connect deeply.

And the result is that men experience chronic loneliness and a lack of emotional support. The silence doesn’t just hurt them—it hurts their marriages, families, and communities.

Men’s Groups Are Not About Making Friends

Some men in groups discover they trust and even love other men in the circle, but wouldn’t hang out as friends outside the group, usually because their ages, interests, or cultures are just too different.

With our usual friends, we might avoid taking those risks because it’d get awkward. In a men’s group, the risk is the whole point.

Why Men Actually Want to Relate to Each Other

“We must be entirely honest with somebody, if we expect to live long or happily in this world.”
— Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 73–74

That sentence hit me so hard that I wrote it down and taped it above my desk.

Being “entirely honest” doesn’t mean waiting until someone asks what’s wrong. It means choosing to open up. It means letting another person see our thoughts, feelings, and fears—and trusting them with the truth.

Men’s groups help men do this with other men. And when men experience being heard and accepted without judgment, something shifts. They often find themselves better able to connect in their family relationships. Some men even notice their marriages improve in ways they didn’t expect. But it makes sense: if we can be real with other men, we’re more likely to bring that depth home.

Intimacy isn’t just about sex or romance. It’s about letting another human being really know us—warts, fears, hopes, and all. Lots of men think intimacy is just for their spouse or partner, but if they’ve never learned to risk being known in other safe contexts, intimacy at home often stays pretty shallow.

The Importance of Vulnerability

About twenty years ago, I attended a men’s weekend adventure training that led to a weekly group. One night, during our usual check-in, the leader asked us to go around the circle again, but this time, to share something we didn’t want the others to know.

At first, the responses were light like, “I don’t want you to know I skipped a shower this morning.” But then the leader raised the stakes. He asked us to go around again, and this time share something we really didn’t want anyone in the room to know.

That second round was more powerful. Some men opened up about shame, fears, and a couple guys shared long-hidden secrets. And still, instead of ridicule, what each man received was support, respect, and appreciation.

That night taught me something vital: risk leads to vulnerability, and vulnerability facilitates intimacy. In another post, I explore what true intimacy really requires and why it can’t be replaced by anything artificial. But not all risks are equal. There’s stupid risk—blurting out your darkest struggle to anyone who’ll listen. And there’s smart risk—choosing the right people, the right place, and the right time to go to the right depth. Men’s groups create the conditions for smart risk.

Navigating all this is how we learn what true emotional intimacy requires.

Other Places Men Have Learned to Open Up

Men’s groups aren’t the only places where men have learned to open up with each another. For centuries, religious communities—churches, mosques, and synagogues—have given men a forum to confess, testify, pray, and connect. Faith communities often give men their first taste of being known and supported. They find they can risk saying, “Here’s who I am and what I struggle with,” and then see that they’re not alone.

Twelve-step programs afford these opportunities, too. Just walking into a meeting requires risk: if someone recognizes you, they’ll likely connect you to that addiction. And then, if you decide to “share” in the meeting, you risk even more because you’re opening yourself up honestly in front of others. Yet it’s that willingness that’s helped countless men find healing and community.

I’m not saying men’s groups are the best or the only place for this work. I simply focus on men’s groups here because that’s what I can offer—and what I’ve seen change lives.

The Cost of Silence

Without opportunities like these, men often remain locked in silence. Loneliness grows. Relationships stall at a surface level. And intimacy—real intimacy—stays out of reach.

Silence also breeds shame. A man who never speaks his fears aloud tends to believe he’s the only one who feels that way. A man who never risks revealing a weakness assumes he has to carry it alone. And a man who never opens up never finds the healing that comes from being accepted despite whatever he’s revealed.

Group work breaks that silence. They provide space to test honesty, to risk being known, and to discover that acceptance is possible—even when they share what feels unshareable.

The Ripple Effect

Something I’ve noticed over the years: lots of guys join a group hoping to fix one part of their life—maybe their marriage, some anger, or secret habits around sex or pornography. What surprises them is how the practice of relating to other men begins to ripple outward. They discover their marriage feels lighter. They connect more easily with their kids. They carry themselves with more confidence at work.

That’s because the skills we practice in groups—listening, speaking truthfully, asking for feedback, and holding each other accountable—are skills of intimacy. And once you learn that, it changes everything.

What’s at Stake