From what I understand, there are a couple possible reasons for this:
They’ve forgotten how to recognize their feelings.
This sounds harsh, but it’s a real phenomenon. Our brains change depending on how we use them. If someone consistently ignores the feeling side of their brain, they will actually have less activity going on over there (Siegel).
They already have a strong support network.
A man who is comfortable with his emotions and whose emotional needs are already being met might not feel any urgency to help other men. He may assume most men are like him and that those struggling or lacking support are a rare exception.
They don’t like that this blog is written by a woman.
There is some validity to this argument. I’m not a man and I’m never going to be a man, but I am a woman and men (and boys) often share things with women that they are unwilling to share with other men. Consequently, there are some things women know about manhood that many men don’t know themselves. Making these things public will benefit everyone and is one of the main reasons I write.
It feels weak to admit they have unmet needs.
As a woman, admitting my own vulnerability is one of the scariest, most difficult things I have to do in life. As difficult as it is for me, it must be exponentially more difficult for a man. As a woman, I know society accepts and even expects me to be vulnerable. I actually feel more feminine when I can manage it. The opposite is true for a man. Strength and independence are the crown jewels of masculinity. When a man admits vulnerability, he feels less masculine. Clearly, this needs to change. Vulnerable does not equal weak. But stereotypes are so ingrained, so subconsciously sacred that unwinding this will take generations. A blog post or two won’t cut it.
None of these reasons mean what I’m doing is wrong. They simply mean I’m making some people uncomfortable. That is the nature of change and I’m not going to let it scare me away. I hope you won’t either.