Why is it hard for so many men to cry?

For a long part of my adult life, I had avoided crying. I had a turning point around two years ago, when I experienced immense grief and personal turmoil, with the pandemic being the cherry on top. This is when I began to confront my more intense emotions.

As a 24-year-old Emirati, I am aware of the social dynamics that have long dictated what gender norms had traditionally been welcome, and those that had been frowned upon. But the fact that men do not always have access to the right avenues for emotional expression is a global dilemma. Many times, it results in destructive tendencies, such as addictive behaviour and self-harm. But why do so many men feel so constricted emotionally?

Research shows that boys and girls cry with similar regularity as toddlers, and well into their mid-childhood. But as grown men, they cry less frequently, less intensely and for a shorter period of time than women. These findings have been replicated in 35 countries across four continents.

One researcher has found that, in their desire to conform to masculine gender expectations, some boys mask their emotions to such an extent that their own mothers aren’t able to identify what emotions their sons are truly experiencing. This is definitely food for thought, considering that this can start as early as the age of four.

Findings that support the idea that men are more susceptible to emotional repression are concerning. Research conducted on 18 Australian men who experienced suicidal thoughts, for example, found that these men have experienced a multitude of emotions in their lifetime. They reported having learnt during their childhoods that expressing emotions reduces their masculinity.

This phenomenon may be facilitated further by parents and peers contributing to the emotional constriction of boys to conform to social gender norms. These are well-known factors, and they bear out in anecdotal evidence I have collected for my own research.

One 27-year-old professional, Ahmed, recently expressed that while his mother was more understanding of his emotional expression than his father, he was still discouraged from these expressions for the sake of his father.

Khalifa, 20, and Sultan, 21, both undergraduate students, have expressed that while they are generally comfortable with being raw and vulnerable, for them it has been more of a learned trait. As children, they were discouraged from crying. The fact that children are only just developing attributes such as consciousness and self-awareness may reinforce the power of these learned traits.

Interestingly, friendship, research shows, can be a powerful antidote to this fear of vulnerability for men. Friendships act as a safe space wherein people reflect upon their inner worlds, through their inter-subjective, dialogical and intimate nature. In essence, friendships of a deep and intimate nature increase one’s awareness of their emotions, which in turn become more readily available for one to examine, analyse, critique and validate.

In a conversation with Fatma, 26, a strategy officer, she states: “We girls have each other to process our emotions, our programming and our trauma. I don’t think guys are encouraged to do the same with their emotions.”

Ahmed considers himself lucky to have a safe space among his school friends to freely express his emotions, as he doesn’t share that safety with his university and work peers, and acknowledges that many other men don’t share the same safety as he does.

These sentiments are unfortunately not shared by Hamad, 31, a business officer. He recounts crying at the funeral of his late uncle, and while mourners would offer condolences, they would whisper in his ear that he should toughen up and get it together. All of this while at the cemetery, with the sand used to bury his late uncle fresh in his hands. Hamad’s experience is not an isolated one; when your emotions are invalidated frequently, you begin to believe that they don’t matter. So, why bother?

Speaking from personal experience, I have been in social circles similar to those of Ahmed and Hamad. Today, I am blessed to find a safe environment in my friends, to express my feelings, be they positive or negative. But I acknowledge that reaching this level of comfort has not been easy, especially since for myself and my close peers, it is in our second nature to keep things to ourselves.

In the Emirati context, there is a lot of room for research to be conducted on a larger scale as to how much of this is a gendered phenomenon versus a cultural one. The cultural norm of "sitr", synonymous with privacy, for example, is often considered a factor in why men find it difficult to express their emotions. It is worth noting, however, that emotional expression does not have to contradict sitr. Whatever the root cause of the gap between men and women in emotional communication, it is time that we find ways to encourage more men to trust those around them, but also to trust themselves, and to reassure them that asking for and accepting help is a favour to oneself.

The goal isn’t to radically shift from what it means to be a man, but to inspire a shift in perspective against the gendering of emotions. Emotions are, after all, part of the human experience. It’s time we embrace them as they come.

I hope that the next time we see a baby boy cry, we validate his emotions and offer him a safe space for expression that will last him a lifetime. I hope as men, we are better to one another, for our own sake.