The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Ever told yourself “It’s nothing, just getting older” when your body sent a warning? Consider a 48-year-old father of two who prides himself on being the picture of health. When he started feeling unusually fatigued, he simply chalked it up to age and a busy life. After all, slowing down is “normal” for a man approaching midlife, right? It wasn’t until he nearly collapsed that he discovered those quiet signals were an oncoming heart attack, a crisis years in the making. His story is shockingly common: many of men’s biggest health problems aren’t sudden storms but slow leaks, fed by the everyday stories we tell ourselves about aging, toughness, and what’s “normal.” Versions of this story play out with heart disease, mental health, sleep, metabolism, and more.

In this article, we’re exploring how long-held beliefs and myths quietly shape men’s health over decades, often more powerfully than any one doctor’s visit or medical scare. Why do these myths persist, and why are they so appealing? How do they delay men from taking action or seeking help until problems reach a boiling point? Most importantly, how can we start rewriting these narratives into healthier ones? Our goal here isn’t to lecture or alarm, but rather, to spark a new way of thinking about men’s health: as a pattern to notice and guide, rather than a crisis to react to. We’ll talk about some insights from research, illustrate with relatable midlife scenarios, and offer a couple of practical steps in each section that you can use right away. Let’s see how the quiet stories we live by can shape our well-being, and how a few small changes in perspective might quietly save lives.

The “Tough It Out” Trap: When Ignoring It Becomes the Norm

Insight: Many men grow up absorbing the message that endurance equals strength: “tough it out,” “walk it off,” don’t complain. Health issues, under this mindset, are challenges to be stoically endured until they either go away or absolutely can’t be ignored. This cultural narrative has serious consequences. Research shows that men, especially those who strongly embrace traditional masculine ideals, tend to have worse health outcomes: in one study of older men, those holding more rigid “tough guy” beliefs reported poorer overall health, more chronic illnesses, and more depression. Men also visit the doctor far less often than women and skip preventive care at double the rate, contributing to higher rates of undiagnosed conditions. The result? On average, men live five years fewer than women and spend more years in poor health. The old tale of “I’m fine, just toughing it out” quietly chips away at health, one ignored symptom at a time.

Illustration: Imagine a midlife scenario: John is 45, with a demanding job and kids in school. Lately he’s been getting frequent heartburn and feeling winded after climbing stairs. He tells himself “It’s just stress, I’ll tough it out”, washing down antacids and skipping the doctor. In truth, John’s body is whispering about a blood pressure creeping up and early signs of heart disease. But John’s internal script, that enduring discomfort is a sign of resilience, keeps him from acting. He recalls how his father never complained about aches and rarely saw doctors, so he assumes this is what being a man is supposed to feel like in your 40s. Months turn into years as he normalizes feeling lousy. Not until John is in the ER with crushing chest pain does he recognize the trap he fell into: by “toughing it out,” he allowed a small problem to grow into a life-threatening crisis. John’s story may be hypothetical, but it reflects a pattern shared by many men who delay care until breaking point.

Actionable Takeaways:

The Appeal of the Myth: Why It’s So Hard to Let Go

Insight: If these health myths are so harmful, why do they persist? The psychological appeal of narratives like “I’m fine” or “it’s just aging” runs deep. For one, they offer comfort. Believing a troubling symptom is “normal” or temporary helps men avoid confronting fear of illness or vulnerability. Culturally, the image of the invincible, self-reliant man is reinforced everywhere, from the strong silent heroes in movies to memories of stoic grandfathers. Research in men’s psychology finds that many men internalize messages like “take it like a man” and “boys don’t cry,” equating health struggles with weakness. Admitting a problem means rewriting one’s identity, and that’s scary. There’s also a control aspect: by telling himself a reassuring story (“It’s nothing serious”), a man feels he stays in charge of the situation, at least for now.

Illustration: Consider how appealing these beliefs can be in everyday life. Mark, 50, laughs off his increasing back pain as a sign he “isn’t 25 anymore.” His buddies nod knowingly; it’s practically a badge of honor among them that “we’re getting old, haha”. The idea that pain is just an ordinary part of aging makes Mark feel less alone and less afraid, everybody our age hurts a bit, right? Similarly, when Mark’s mood plummets for weeks, he jokes that it’s just midlife stress or needing a beer, because admitting he might be depressed feels like crossing a line he’s not ready for. The myth that “mental health isn’t a men’s issue” offers him a convenient escape hatch from a tough conversation. Socially, these stories are reinforced: maybe his father would say “Cheer up, don’t dwell on it,” or his coworkers brag about never taking sick days. Myths persist because they can feel comfortable, familiar, even virtuous to live by. They simplify the complex (aging, illness, emotions) into something a man can shrug off with a grin.

Actionable Takeaways:

The Slow Burn of Belief: How Quiet Myths Become Big Problems

Insight: The dangerous thing about these ingrained beliefs is how quietly they operate over time. Instead of dramatic events, it’s the little choices influenced by myths that add up year after year. Skipping one blood pressure check because “I feel fine” seems minor, but doing that for 10 or 20 years can mean undetected hypertension slowly damaging your heart. Dismissing fatigue as “normal” in your 40s might lead you to miss early warnings of diabetes or a cardiac issue. Men often wait until symptoms are severe before finally seeking help, by which point conditions like diabetes, heart disease, or depression are more advanced and harder to treat. It’s like a slow burn: the fire was quietly smoldering while we weren’t looking, until one day it erupts. Health becomes a crisis-response game, reacting to heart attacks, strokes, or breakdowns, rather than a pattern-recognition game of catching things early. Notably, silent killers like high blood pressure or high cholesterol are especially subject to this dynamic. Feeling “fine” can be misleading when a condition progresses without obvious symptoms. That’s why routine checks matter even when you feel okay. Unfortunately, the “If I feel fine, I don’t need a doctor” myth remains widespread and keeps a lot of problems hidden until they roar.

Illustration: Let’s revisit our friend Mark at two different ages. At 35, Mark rarely sees a doctor. He’s busy, feels healthy enough, and believes doctors are for “when you’re really sick.” Over the next decade, his blood pressure quietly rises, but Mark has no idea because, well, he hasn’t checked. Every so often he gets a pounding headache or feels dizzy standing up, but he attributes it to work stress or not drinking enough water. At 45, Mark finally goes for a check-up (perhaps prodded by his spouse), only to learn he has stage 2 hypertension and signs of an enlarged heart. He’s stunned: “I wish I’d known earlier.” This scenario is painfully common. Men often have conditions like hypertension or high blood sugar brewing under the surface. Similarly, with mental health: a man might dismiss years of chronic anxiety as “just how I am,” until one day a panic attack forces him to acknowledge it. These “slow burns” highlight how our quiet beliefs (“It will resolve on its own,” “I’m just a worrywart, nothing to do about it”) can keep us from nipping issues in the bud. By the time action feels unavoidable, the issue has gained a decade of momentum.

Actionable Takeaways:

From Crisis to Pattern: Reframing Health as Maintenance, Not Repair

Insight: To change outcomes, we need to change the narrative, to see health less as a binary of “healthy vs. sick” and more as a continuum that we navigate. Think of it this way: Good health isn’t a given trait you either have or lose; it’s more like a vehicle that needs regular care. Unfortunately, many men have been taught to operate in repair mode (deal with it when it breaks) rather than maintenance mode. What would it look like to reverse that? It starts with reframing taking care of yourself as a smart, even masculine thing to do. In fact, some experts suggest flipping the script entirely: taking charge of your health can be cast as an act of strength and responsibility. One study on older men found that certain traditionally “masculine” activities like doing regular maintenance (repairs, car upkeep) were actually linked to better health outcomes, perhaps because they keep men active and engaged. The lesson here is intriguing: when men channeled their take-charge attitude into maintaining things, they saw benefits; imagine if we apply that same attitude to maintaining the body and mind.

Illustration: Picture two approaches. Alan treats his health like a high-performance car he wants to run smoothly for 100,000 miles. He fuels it with decent food, takes it for scheduled tune-ups (check-ups), and doesn’t ignore the weird noise under the hood (that nagging knee pain or stress-induced insomnia). If something seems off, he pops the hood and checks with a professional, because he values longevity and performance. Meanwhile, Ben treats his health like a rental car: drive it hard and deal with issues only when forced. Oil change? “Later, maybe.” Minor rattle? “Turn up the radio.” Ben’s car, unsurprisingly, breaks down far sooner and in costlier ways. This analogy, borrowed from a public health article that noted how men often care for their cars better than their bodies , hits home because it’s relatable. Many men would never neglect routine maintenance on their truck or even skip the stats on their fantasy football team’s players each week, yet they haven’t checked their own blood pressure or waist size in years. By reframing health as something to manage proactively (like finances, vehicles, or any valued asset), it becomes less of a foreign chore and more of a familiar responsibility.

Actionable Takeaways:

A New Narrative: Curiosity, Not Fear

Insight: Ultimately, shifting these deep-seated beliefs comes down to adopting a new internal narrative, one driven by curiosity instead of fear. Rather than dreading what a symptom might mean or assuming it’s nothing, approach it with a spirit of inquiry: “That’s interesting, why is this happening?” When you replace the story of “This is normal, ignore it” with “This is curious, let me pay attention,” you transform fear of finding a problem into interest in solving a puzzle. This gentle curiosity can protect your health far better over time than stoic denial ever could. And it pays dividends: research suggests that positive and proactive mindsets about aging actually lead to better outcomes. In one famous 20-year study, people who viewed aging in a positive light lived 7.5 years longer on average than those with more negative beliefs. That’s right, simply believing that your later years can be healthy and rich tends to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, adding years of life. In reframing men’s health as a long game, it’s helpful to remember that the stories we tell ourselves can either weigh us down or lift us up. We get to choose which one we reinforce.

Illustration (Emotional Connection): Think of a common midlife moment: you’re at a friend’s 50th birthday, and the conversation turns to everyone’s latest aches and doctor’s visits, half-jokingly, half in earnest. There’s a shared sigh of “we’re getting old,” but also a spark of concern as someone mentions a health scare narrowly avoided. In that moment, you might feel two things at once: a flicker of fear (could something like that be waiting for me?) and a resolve (I want to be around, healthy, for my family and the things I love). These gatherings are rites of passage in midlife. They remind us that our bodies are changing, yes, but they also remind us why we care, the hugs of grandchildren not yet born, the travels planned in retirement, the simple joy of feeling good day to day. By approaching your health with curiosity, you serve those hopes instead of those fears. It’s not about becoming a hypochondriac or obsessing over every twinge; it’s about treating your well-being as an ongoing story you’re actively writing, not a passive script handed down by outdated myths.

Actionable Takeaways:

Ending on a Reflective Takeaway: The stories we tell ourselves about our health have immense power. They can be the gentle hand that guides us to long, vibrant lives, or the quiet weight that holds us back until a crisis forces change. The good news is we’re the storytellers. It might take practice, and a fair bit of unlearning, but we can choose curiosity over dismissal, proactive care over “wait and see,” and pattern recognition over crisis reaction. Next time you catch yourself muttering an old myth (“It’s nothing” … “I’ll handle it later” … “I’m just being weak”), take it as an invitation to write a new script in that moment. Something as simple as, “I deserve to know for sure,” or “Let me take care of this now so it doesn’t take care of me later.” Over a lifetime, those little narrative edits add up. They mean more healthy years, more moments with those who matter, and fewer unwelcome surprises. In the end, reframing men’s health is not about alarm, it’s about awareness. It’s about trading the quiet stories that harm us for ones that heal us. And it begins, as all good stories do, by sparking a bit of curiosity: What might be possible if we take charge of our narrative?

Over the next eight weeks, 10,700 will return to these ideas with more focus. Early on, we’ll explore health issues that tend to be invisible until they’re not: heart health, metabolism, sleep, and energy. And then we’ll turn our attention to areas shaped heavily by identity and avoidance, including mental health, sexual health, and weight. And toward the end of the series, we’ll look at topics where mixed messages often create hesitation rather than clarity, such as prostate health and physical decline. Not to alarm, and not to offer shortcuts, but to replace familiar myths with better questions, better signals to watch for, and a steadier way of thinking about health after 50.

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