What Actually Happens in Men’s Groups?

As I settled into a new city for graduate school, it dawned on me suddenly that I might be heading down the pathway, so common for men of working age, of being friends only with my colleagues. Not just that, but I had lost most of the male friendships in my life, and I was actually somewhat fearful of developing meaningful connections with other men.

Naturally, I asked the Internet what to do, and the Internet suggested I look into personal growth groups for men. These groups are not therapeutic in nature andare only occasionally run by trained counselors or therapists. They mostly operate in the tradition of the men’s movement of the 1970s and 1980s, in which men began to pursue lives of greater authenticity, integrity, and intentional service to others, often by coming together in groups and ceremonies (Guarnaschelli, 1994). The groups promise support, insight, and accountability for improving one’s life, as well as close and trusting relationships with other men (Karsk & Thomas, 1987). To counter our social conditioning to be stoic and distant from others, they encourage and celebrate vulnerable disclosure about one’s life (Choi & Sabey, 2024).

I found these prospects encouraging, and more than a little intimidating. I arrived at my first men’s group harboring doubts. How could a non-therapeutic group, run by an everyday guy, help me improve my life? Would the men really trust each other and open up?

Each group began with a check-in from each member, in which he was asked especially to tune into the emotions he had felt that day. Then, we reserved time for each man who had “work” to do that evening. Here’s what “work” means in this context: Imagine the eyes of every man in the room trained on you. You try your best to articulate what’s going wrong in your life, where you are lost or discouraged or want help. The men in the group listen closely. They ask questions, share similar experiences, make suggestions. You open up, then get frustrated or overwhelmed and shut down. You feel supported and painfully challenged at the same time. Relief and gratitude, an unfamiliar but welcome combination, wash over you when it’s time for the next man’s turn.

I resisted the “communal witness” of the group for some time (Guarnaschelli, 1994), and then, when I did open up, I hated being challenged. The men wondered if the fact that I never felt anger was a good thing; they asked me why I withheld my opinions and preferences from my girlfriend. They asked me what felt right – genuinely right – for me, and often I had no idea what to say. They genuinely empathized with me, but at the same time, they held me accountable for changing what I could in my life.

Groups like this work because every man has his own ongoing and imperfect relationship with masculinity and manhood. Every man needs help recognizing when he is resisting what is truly in his nature, whether that is to be more masculine or less masculine, in a given situation (Karsk & Thomas, 1987). I learned that my own understanding of how to be a good man involved not making demands of others and not taking up too much space. I was apologizing for how much space men take up – but my unwillingness to ask for what I needed meant that my needs came out sideways, hurting others and undermining my relationships.

Over time, I stopped hesitating and started really participating, eventually becoming known as the guy who cried every time he shared. When I admitted feeling shame about this behavior, the group leader reframed it for me: “When you do that, you give other guys permission to feel deeply and to cry if they need to.” I was unlearning the masculine proscription against being vulnerable around other men; I started to see vulnerability as a strength.

Eventually, I found myself drawn to a more extended men’s workshop experience – a whole day of receiving and giving support as each man faced his demons for an hour or more. On this occasion, I vented an enormous amount of anger and finally came to peace with a significant relationship in my life.

My journey aligns with the experiences of men whose participation in men’s groups has been empirically studied. For example, members of the ManKind Project, an international non-profit organizing both weekend retreats and weekly meetings, report greater connectedness with other men, a greater sense of wellbeing and purpose, and progress toward life goals as a result of participating in retreats and meetings (Maton, 2000).

The key mechanism of change here may be that men in these groups become more comfortable with moving away from conventional masculinity as they see fit (Anderson et al., 2014). In other words, supportive experiences of exploring non-traditional masculinity help men come to embrace their own unique expression of manhood (Burke et al., 2010). We learn to define strength for ourselves.

All of that holds true for me. These groups have held me accountable to my own goals and morals, built my capacity to express my feelings, shown me where I was resisting responsibility for my life, and most importantly, enhanced the depth, quality, and number of my friendships with other men (Pentz, 2000). This kind of support and growth is available – often for free – to any man willing to take the plunge and put himself in intentional connection with other men.