Men and the Masks We Wear

As boys, we learn early: Don’t cry. Don’t feel too much. Be strong. Be silent. Be tough.

So we do what we’re told — not always in words, but in looks, dismissals, or silence from those we looked up to. We armor up. We build masks.

The funny guy. The stoic provider. The player. The bad boy. The “nice guy. ”The hero. The ghost.

Each mask has its perks. It helps us feel a sense of belonging, avoid pain, or feel powerful. But here’s the catch: after a while, we forget we’re even wearing them.

In King, Warrior, Magician, Lover, Moore and Gillette write that these masks are shadows of the mature masculine archetypes. They’re like distorted echoes, immature attempts at stepping into our full power. The “tyrant king” or the “weakling prince,” for example, are what happens when we lose connection to our true King energy, the calm, centered authority within.

In Iron John, Robert Bly describes how many modern men are missing deep initiation, rites of passage into manhood. Without that, we reach for masks to fake it. And eventually, the mask wears us.

For me, I wore the “rescuer” mask for most of my life. I thought if I could save everyone else, maybe I’d finally be enough. But when my own daughter became the victim of a child predator, that mask shattered. I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t make it right. And that moment broke me open.

It was in that pain that Fathership Program Inc. was born.

My health started breaking down too, I lost a lung, fought through cancer, and have had days where getting out of bed felt like a war. But here’s the truth: that suffering stripped away the masks I didn’t even know I had. It forced me to look in the mirror without filters.

That’s what men’s work is.

It’s not about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who we were before the world told us who we had to be.

In The Way of the Superior Man, David Deida says it plainly: “Every moment of your life is either a test or a celebration.” If we hide behind a mask, we’ll fail both. We can’t be celebrated if we’re not truly seen.

So here’s my challenge to you, brother: What masks are you wearing? What would happen if you took them off — even just for a day? What’s under there that the world is waiting to meet?

At Fathership, we don’t expect you to have the answers. Hell, most of us showed up not even knowing the right questions. But we do offer a space to take off the armor, the labels, the masks — and find something deeper.

Something real. Something wild. Something free.

Work Cited (APA 7th Edition):

Bly, R. (1990). Iron John: A book about men. Da Capo Press.Deida, D. (2004). The way of the superior man: A spiritual guide to mastering the challenges of women, work, and sexual desire. Sounds True.Moore, R. L., & Gillette, D. (1990). King, warrior, magician, lover: Rediscovering the archetypes of the mature masculine. HarperOne.