Guest Contributor- Jason MacKenzie
I’ve lost a wife to suicide and a daughter to the devastating effects of mental health.
I’ve talked about them many times and been met with incredible support from friends and strangers alike.
Today, in honor of #BellLetsTalk day, I want to talk about another group I unwillingly belong to:
Grieving men.
We don’t often talk about what we’re going through—for all kinds of reasons.
But I want to offer a glimpse into what grief can feel like for us.
This isn’t about pity.
It’s about understanding what the man you love, work with, or know might be carrying silently.
Grief for us can feel like:
Knowing it was your job to protect or save the person you lost—and feeling like you failed.
Carrying the weight of not being able to provide or “fix it,” as you’re supposed to.
Working yourself to the bone because burying yourself in tasks feels less painful than facing your loss.
Feeling weak and pathetic because even simple things—making a decision, showing up for a meeting—can feel insurmountable.
Stuffing down emotions because you don’t want to seem vulnerable—until the pressure builds, and you lash out in anger at the people you care about.
Turning to alcohol, work, or anything else because sitting with yourself feels unbearable.
Hating yourself for how you’re coping, knowing it’s making things worse.
Trying to be “strong” but “breaking down” alone because you can’t let others see you cry.
Knowing healing takes time but beating yourself up for not being “over it.”
Losing interest in the things you once loved—or resenting them because they no longer bring joy.
Watching your surviving child wrestle with loss and feeling powerless to help.
Then there are unexpected moments that bring you to your knees:
Someone casually asking, “How many kids do you have?”
Feeling fine one minute and bawling on the side of the road the next.
Sitting in meetings, performing at work, but not caring in the slightest.
Grief can feel isolating—like the world keeps moving, and you’re stuck.
Friendships fade because you withdraw.
You don’t want to burden anyone, and honestly, you don’t have the words to explain it.
But grief can also be a testament to the depth of your love. That’s the bittersweet truth.
If you’re unsure how to support a grieving man, consider asking:
“What’s the most important thing you want me to know about what you’re going through?”
To my brothers out there who are grieving: you’re not alone, even if it feels like it.
And to everyone who’s stood by me: thank you. I am healing. ♥️
Jason MacKenzie is a husband, father, and business owner who knows the weight of loss firsthand. After losing his first wife and daughter to the devastating effects of mental illness, he’s dedicated to helping men navigate grief, grow through it, and honor those they’ve lost. He writes about grief for men—and the people who love them.
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