‘He just lies on the sofa, doing nothing.’

‘He buries himself in his work, and barely speaks to anyone at home.’

‘He flies off the handle at the smallest thing.’

‘Even if I get upset, he doesn’t seem to care.’

Would you make one of these complaints, I wonder, if you were describing your husband or partner?

In my experience, as a psychotherapist of more than 25 years who specialises in male mental health, these are some of the most common criticisms women make about the men in their lives.

Undoubtedly, such behaviour can be hard to bear. Some women even describe coping with their partner’s emotions as ‘man keeping’ – by which they mean the unspoken burden that falls on them when absorbing his difficult or insular habits.

But rather than dismiss character flaws like these simply as ‘a man thing’, as I’ve so often heard them described, I would instead argue such behaviours are signs your husband or partner needs your support and understanding, not frustration or criticism.

This is because those ‘man things’ – perhaps losing his temper because of events which seem insignificant to you, whether it’s you rushing him to leave the house or the kitchen being untidy – often have a hidden meaning.

I’ve seen again and again that men who appear angry, persistently lazy, emotionally numb or excessively devoted to their work are actually showing signs of past traumas.

Not properly understanding your husband's behaviours can greatly impact your relationship, as partners may feel they are being pushed away

Society doesn’t usually appreciate this. I heard someone recently comment, ‘Aren’t men s***!’ and I bristled, because it showed that common lack of understanding of the distress and pain which so often underpins these male behaviours – and the survival response they really signify.

So what’s really on your husband’s mind at these difficult moments?

From what I’ve observed in my many male patients, anger may well conceal other emotions, such as fear or even sadness, while silence could be his way of pulling away to protect himself, or even the relationship.

Laziness is often withdrawal in disguise, more than likely his nervous system shutting down to cope with big feelings.

And seemingly not caring? That numb response to your tears could be his body protecting him against emotional overwhelm.

Not knowing what these behaviours mean, and then misreading them, can have a significant impact on your relationship. Partners can feel they’re being pushed away when they’re not and colleagues incorrectly perceive unreliability. Meanwhile, men themselves think they’re damaged when they’re really just finding a way to cope.

This isn’t helped by men usually avoiding seeking professional help from therapists like me until they can’t go on. And when men avoid therapy, the women in their life often feel the strain first, themselves experiencing anxiety or difficulty coping while they carry the responsibility for holding the relationship together.

This is the reason why I wrote my new book on male mental health: I want to help you, so you don’t have to be your partner’s only emotional outlet. And I want to provide him with the tools to cope with his difficult feelings.

Here, then, is my guide to what your husband’s really thinking and why – and how he can help himself…

He says he’s fine... but he’s not

From the start of my career as a therapist, I’ve seen how hard it can be for many men to ask for help or even to talk about what’s really going on in their heads.

I won’t surprise many women if I say men often lack the emotional vocabulary to describe their feelings.

Often, when you ask a man how he feels he’ll answer in brief, usually along the lines of ‘I’m alright’ (even when he’s clearly not). This contributes to too many men struggling on in silence, as if admitting distress means weakness, failure or being judged as ‘not man enough’.

Too many men struggle with their emotions in silence, as if admitting distress means failure or weakness. Gently encourage your husband to name his feelings and to be specific

Yet it’s important to name our feelings: psychotherapy research shows doing so reduces the power of the emotion and makes it easier to step back from. Rather than generalities such as ‘busy’ or ‘all right’, even a rough label such as ‘angry’ or ‘flat’ gives the brain more room to process feelings. Your husband doesn’t have to get lyrical – but encourage him gently to try to be more specific.

If he finds himself saying ‘I don’t feel anything’ – something I’ve heard from men a lot – that matters just as much. A sense of blankness or numbness is an emotional state in itself. For men, it’s often how the nervous system learned to keep things manageable.

The real reason he loses it over nothing

For some men, the build-up of smaller pressures over time can become exhausting. It might be someone making an awkward comment at work, another put-down by a family member, the tax return that needs to be done.

Each one feels manageable, but they begin to stack up and the strain builds subtly over time, until one evening, over something as small as a spilled drink or misplaced keys, his whole system erupts.

Suddenly, he’s snapped at you or raised his voice and stormed out of the room. You might be familiar with the idea of ‘losing it over nothing’ – but his body is simply reacting to what it wrongly reads as one large stressor. In reality, the body is instead releasing a whole load of cumulative stress.

Here, I advise something known as ‘values-based action’. The man should start by noticing what’s happening in his body and mind. Perhaps his stomach is churning or jaw clenched. Then name it for what it is. Perhaps say, ‘Here’s anger’ or ‘I’m feeling anxious’. That initial naming helps to keep him grounded, because he’s no longer treating the experience as an emergency. The final move is to choose. He should ask, ‘What matters?’ or ‘Who do I want to be in this moment?’ The choice isn’t about eliminating the feeling; it’s about acting more in line with the person he really wants to become.

The legacy of critical fathers

Early experiences with parents affect the male nervous system. Perhaps your husband or partner had a critical or neglectful parent – sometimes fathers are particularly judgmental of their sons. This may have meant your partner learned to withdraw, please others or keep his guard up to protect himself.

Over time, all this can develop into anxiety, depression, addictions or difficulties in relationships. This is because trauma is not locked away in memory, but is shown in how we respond to stress, conflict and intimacy in daily life.

David, a 42-year-old patient of mine, showed this clearly. He sought therapy because his marriage was close to breaking point. His wife felt he had several different personalities – sometimes he was fine, but then explosive, shouting over small things like the children being noisy. At other times, he would withdraw completely, staring blankly at the television, unreachable for hours. He sincerely wanted to change, but felt trapped in reactions he couldn’t control.

Early experiences with critical parents – most often fathers – affect the male nervous system, and in response their sons learn to withdraw or put a guard up

David spoke about growing up with a father who was quick to anger, and a mother who coped by placating his father or by keeping quiet. As a child, he’d inevitably learned both patterns from them. As a consequence, when his nervous system detected threat – for example, if his wife questioned him about something he’d forgotten to do like putting the bins out or suggested he wasn’t listening to her, however gently she did it – he either went into fight mode or froze into silence.

For him to understand this was not a moral failing but a survival strategy helped him move out of shame. I taught him to notice the quick, shallow breathing that preceded his anger and realise it was a warning sign. It helped him bring his feelings under control. His wife soon noticed the difference too.

The perils of the andropause

If your husband is over 50, you should be aware of the andropause – often described as the male equivalent of the menopause – and the impact it can have on his mental health.

I saw this in Jacob, in his mid-50s when he came to see me. His wife had persuaded him to come after months of his increased irritability.

‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me,’ he said. ‘I’m tired all the time. I’m always in a bad mood. I wake up at three in the morning and can’t get back to sleep. Sex isn’t enjoyable any more; it feels like hard work, and I avoid it because I feel embarrassed.

'At work I keep overreacting to things. When I go home I put the TV on and try to stay away from everyone. I don’t even feel like I know who I am any more.’

As testosterone declines in mid-life, men are impacted by the andropause. Any woman going through the menopause will know how tough such changes can be

Sound familiar? Any woman going through the menopause will know how distressing such changes can feel after a lifetime of relative confidence.

Thanks to the andropause, Jacob felt he was becoming less virile, less certain, more fragile. He had never heard of the andropause, and when I told him, like many men, he was fascinated to discover there was a recognised explanation for many of the changes he’d been experiencing. Just understanding what might be happening reduced some of the shame and self-blame.

In most men, testosterone declines gradually from the 30s onwards. By their 50s or 60s, the cumulative effect of this slow decline, combined with lifestyle changes, stress and genetics, can produce noticeable physical and mental effects – low energy, low libido, changes in mood, loss of muscle, increased fat around the middle, less motivation and more disrupted sleep.

Jacob eventually told me he avoided intimacy with his wife because of worries about not being able to perform. When his wife asked, ‘Are you not attracted to me any more?’ he wasn’t able to tell her the real issue: that he struggled with his erections.

Experiences like this trigger shame, which makes many men retreat into silence, busyness, irritation, work or unhelpful coping strategies such as alcohol misuse.

Some men going through the andropause might be helped by testosterone replacement therapy, but this isn’t a blanket answer. A good lifestyle is vital, especially sleep. Testosterone levels rise overnight and poor sleep accelerates decline. Good food and exercise are other essentials.

Mindset helps, too. Yes, the pace has changed from the frenetic summer of youth – but the colours of midlife autumn are richer, the wisdom deeper. Libido may reduce, but intimacy can deepen when performance is not the principal concern.

The toxicity of the ‘man up‘ message – and the dangers of always being busy

In the therapy room, I’ve met countless men who feel the pressure of expectations. Men grow up with very particular messages about what it means to be a man like ‘Man up!’ ‘Be a man!’ and ‘Boys don’t cry!’ And so some continually push themselves harder to project toughness even when they feel exhausted.

Indeed, from early in life, the masculinity script also rewards and reinforces activity in males. The cultural messages are established early on and often stay for life – to be a man is to be useful, driven and to prove your worth you must always be doing something.

You possibly live by this silent code yourself if your diary always has to be full, your phone always in your hand. Men who live like this say they can’t stop. Quietness and stillness bring a risk of emotional pain in the form of sadness, fear or, as I’ve heard it described many times, ‘approaching the void’. For some men, sitting still, even briefly, raises questions that are just too challenging: ‘What am I doing all this for?’ ‘Who am I if I’m not working?’

Keeping busy with work is a common way men distract themselves from confronting difficult emotions, because there is a fear that stillness will bring on sadness

Rhys was in his mid-40s when he came to see me. At work, he managed a team and was respected for being reliable. He had a good salary and a family who cared about him. But he described himself as dissatisfied, easily irritated and tired of feeling like he was always on edge. He told me early on, ‘I can’t sit still. I’d rather keep busy. If I stop, I feel worse.’ He laughed but his eyes told me stopping was frightening for him. At home, his partner said he often came in from work and sat for hours on his phone. If she tried to talk to him, he’d often not answer. His children had learned to not bother him, which made them sad. To Rhys, it felt like drowning.

I suggested mindfulness would help. Mindfulness asks you to slow down, to pause, to notice, to be present with yourself. Rhys pulled a face. ‘That’s not for me, mate. I can’t imagine anything worse than sitting on the floor like the Buddha with my eyes shut.’ Although he sounded irritated, I sensed fear. Even the suggestion of stopping briefly to tune in to himself was terrifying. So, we began with something really small – I asked him to try paying attention to his breathing for one minute in the evenings. This smallest change eventually sparked something – and even he came to admit his mind was more at peace.

Control the ANTs

A man’s thoughts are just as important as his feelings. In therapy, types of thoughts that are automatic and unhelpful are called ANTs – automatic negative thoughts. Just like the other kind of little ants we’re all familiar with, they arrive quickly, often without invitation, and before you know it they’re appearing all over the place, shifting your mood and tensing your body.

Psychotherapist and male mental health expert Dr Peter Meades says men who seem angry, emotionally numb or persistently lazy are often showing signs of past traumas

ANTs are nothing more than patterns of thinking which often develop from early experiences in life, and seem to get stuck even when you consciously know better. For example, a common one is all-or-nothing thinking, where life gets reduced to extremes, such as success or failure. You miss one gym session and immediately think, ‘I’ve blown it. I might as well give up.’

Overgeneralising is another: a clumsy moment in a conversation turns into, ‘I’m hopeless at talking to people and socialising.’

Labelling is also common: calling yourself an idiot after one small mistake, as though a fleeting moment defines your whole character.

What matters most is noticing when any of the thoughts might be a result of the underlying script. That moment of awareness opens an opportunity between the old voice and current reality.

This can look very ordinary. Imagine a man driving to work, already tense from exchanges with his wife and children while helping to get everyone out of the house on time for school or work. Suddenly, another car cuts him up at the traffic lights. The thoughts immediately spring up: ‘People always do things like this to me’, ‘They always walk over me.’ His jaw tightens, face reddens and anger rises. Halfway through swearing, he notices that it’s his old ‘I don’t matter’ way of thinking. Recognising the thoughts about people always walking over him doesn’t mean they completely vanish, but it does mean they loosen their hold on him, and his reaction (or the response) becomes more appropriate to the situation.

Adapted by Maureen Brookbanks from I’m Fine (But Not Really) by Dr Peter Meades (Robinson, £16.99), out now. © Dr Peter Meades 2026. To order a copy for £15.29 (offer valid to 30/08/26; UK P&P free on orders over £25) go to mailshop.co.uk/books or call 020 3176 2937.