Each June, we set aside twenty-four hours to celebrate fathers! Often with a card, maybe a tie, or a mug that reads “#1 Dad.” We post pictures, share stories, and sing his praises. But at the end of the day when the cheers fade and he is left alone with his thoughts – no applause, no spotlight – who pauses to ask, “Are you living or surviving?”
In my earlier piece, “What Are You Living For?”, I invited readers to reflect on purpose and fulfillment. But I have come to realize that for many fathers, that question remains unanswered – not because it lacks meaning, but because they have never been given the space to consider it. Too often, fathers move through life caught in a quiet loop of survival: providing by obligation, protecting by instinct, and performing by expectation. Rarely are they offered the freedom or grace to simply be human.
This is both a love letter and a wake-up call. To the fathers carrying entire households on shoulders already heavy with unspoken fears, to those breaking generational cycles but breaking inside too and to the ones whose silence is slowly stealing their peace.
For generations, men have been taught that strength means silence, and that love is shown through labor, not language. Too often, society presents the view that a paycheck matters more than presence. But behind stoic exteriors, many fathers are unraveling – juggling work, marriage, parenting, cultural pressure, and identity without pause, without therapy, and without space to breathe. Mental health struggles often go unnoticed until they erupt into rage, detachment, addiction or quiet disappearance. This is not just personal – it is generational and systemic.
June is also Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month – a timely moment to highlight these silent battles and ask some hard but important questions. Are we giving men the space to be whole? To be heard? To be healed – without judgment?
We must end the myth that asking for help is a sign of weakness. In truth, it is an act of love and often a lifesaving one. Whether it involves calling a therapist, confiding in a spouse, or texting a trusted friend, when a father says, “I need help,” he is teaching his children a powerful truth – that vulnerability is strength, honesty is healing, and mere survival is not the goal.
Father’s Day should be more than brunch, gifts, or surface-level gratitude. It should be a cultural reset and a time to ask, “How are you, really?” not, “What do you do for us?” – we should celebrate not only a father’s sacrifices, but his growth. We must honor the fathers who cry behind closed doors, who wrestle with doubt, and who keep showing up anyway.
In my research on African American teen fathers, a common truth emerged that they were not lacking in love or responsibility. Instead, they were lacking emotional support and societal permission to be more than providers. They were surviving not because they did not care, but because no one asked how they were doing. That silence does not fade with age, it deepens. If we do not break the cycle and continue applauding exhaustion and ignoring pain, we will keep raising sons who inherit their fathers’ silence.
Let us normalize fatherhood as an emotional journey and raise our sons to believe that asking for help is not only acceptable but expected.
To every father reading this – You are seen. You are not weak. You are enough and You are not alone. There are resources and support systems around the world.
In Ghana, the Ministry of Health Mental Health Authority toll free line is 0800-678-678.
Let this Father’s Day and this Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month be the turning point. Give yourself permission to feel, to rest, and to be helped. Happy Father’s Day! I am cheering you on!!