Introduction On the field, in my personal life, and in my career, I''ve always subscribed to traditional notions of masculinity. Work hard, be tough, win at all costs, be aggressive, don''t be emotional--you know the clichés. I''m a boy from Ohio. It''s a factory, farming, football, meat and potatoes kind of place. The way I was taught to deal with my problems was to smash into things as hard as I could--on the football field, maybe in the parking lot too, if necessary. In this way, I''m like most guys--whether they live in America or Zimbabwe. I was living the way I was taught by my dad, just like his dad taught him, just like we''ve all seen on television and in the movies. I was following their lead, on the path to becoming a real man.

And just like most guys, it worked okay, until it didn''t. Sadness slipped in where success used to live. Loneliness and addiction took over for love. And depression blanketed all of it. I think it''s time we ask: Is this lifestyle really working for the men in our society? Consider that, statistically speaking, males underperform in school compared to their female counterparts,1 have underdeveloped social skills and friendships,2 and are more prone to bouts of anger and unprovoked aggression brought on by depression.3 They also are more likely than women to use almost all types of illicit drugs,4 engage in more reckless sexual behavior, and be an absentee parent when that sexual recklessness results in pregnancy. These are just a half dozen examples of problems men face that researchers, educators, and psychologists have connected in one way or another to our misguided notions of masculinity. As you might imagine, these problems don''t stop with the men they afflict.

They ripple throughout society as a whole. In fact, their effect on the male quality of life often results in early death, either theirs or others. Consider these numbers: According to the FBI''s 2015 annual report on crime in the United States, nearly 88 percent of all homicides are committed by men.5 Men in the United States are six times more likely to commit suicide than women.6 Meanwhile, they are significantly less likely to seek help from a suicide prevention institution and half as likely simply to visit a doctor.7 And this trend starts early in the lives of men. One of the psychologists featured in The Mask You Live In, Dr. Niobe Way, found that it is when "we began to hear the language, the emotional language, disappear from boys'' narratives, that boys begin to have five times the rate of suicide as girls.

"8 A suicide prevention study conducted in Switzerland summarized these findings in as blunt and bleak a fashion as possible: "Women seek help--men die."9 Over the years, many well-meaning men and women have tried to address these problems from a variety of angles. Some thought the solution was to teach men how to "get in touch with their feminine side" or "get in touch with their emotions." Others have invented ridiculously divisive terms like "metrosexual" and "alpha male." Men have been lectured and harangued and criticized for being too much of this and not enough of that. These so-called experts promise us better relationships, more personal happiness, solutions to all our personal problems. Like many guys, I''ve had certain books recommended to me--or rather, had a girlfriend or a relative try to push them on me--and yet, I never found any that resonated. Not because I have everything figured out or I''m perfectly well-adjusted, but because more often than not, the advice was condescending and impractical or just plain wrong.

I couldn''t relate to the people trying to tell me these things. It was a real shame. Which is why, in this book, I want to do something completely different. I''m not going to lecture anyone. I''m not going to criticize. More than that, I''m not going to try to change you . I don''t think men are fundamentally flawed or broken. Not at all.

They are just trapped. I know that''s the way I felt for 30 years of my life. Remember those boxes we stuffed our emotions into when we were younger? As we outgrew the boxes, they transformed into masks that hold us back and hurt our friends, family, career partners, and intimate lovers. The simple purpose of this book is to show you what those masks are, why they''re there, and how to take them off. I don''t want to change you. I just want to help you be who you already truly are. If you''re a woman, I want you to be aware of why men wear certain masks, how you can communicate with men when they are hiding behind them, and how you can support and inspire men to slowly remove these masks. Am I saying that most men are not being true to themselves? Yes.

Let''s look at the traditional depiction of a "real man." A real man must always be: * Successful at everything he does * Physically fit * Strong * Skilled at fixing things * Good at sports or, at the very least, knowledgeable about them * Attractive enough to women to be able to get in bed with them At the same time, a real man must never be: * Interested in what women think about his appearance * Too emotional * Afraid * Without the answer to a problem * Anything but first, most, or best * Seen crying--not ever If you think those are dated clichés I gathered together to make my point, let me point you to an experiment that English teacher Celine Kagan conducted over the course of 4 years from 2008-2012 at Little Red School House and Elisabeth Irwin High School in Manhattan with high school juniors and seniors in a class she specifically designed to "deconstruct the myth of masculinity." She gave her students 10 minutes to respond to a simple prompt: "What is a man?" Their answers matched almost word for word the phrases I just listed off for you. As Kagan describes so beautifully, here''s how the process unfolded and how ridiculously skewed it tended to be: Inevitably, the discussion that follows begins with a student positing, "A man is someone with a penis." From this point, the conversation moves into a listing of male stereotypes: strong, tough, tall, rich, brave, independent, likes cars, doesn''t cry, has lots of sex, watches sports and pornography, etc. I write this list on the board, creating a powerful visual for the students to critique. "Does this list represent what the men you know are really like?" I ask them. Their answer is always, "No.

" 10 Each of us will have a slightly different definition of what it means to be a man--a little bit more of one trait, a little bit less of another--but no matter what, the recipe will always add up to the same impossible creation. No human being could ever successfully live up to the standards we''ve constructed. Few ever even come close. Yet falling short can have dire consequences: Men who are deficient in any of these categories are called soft, weak, and stupid. Other men in society label them as gay, losers, bitches, girls, or pussies. To disagree publicly with any of these notions of masculinity is to risk being made fun of, beaten up, or lumped in with these categories yourself. I know. I remember one day in fourth grade at Smith Elementary School in Delaware, Ohio, my teacher decided that instead of going out for recess on our own, we would all play dodgeball together.

I''m not sure if he did this intentionally, but he picked two of the popular boys to be team captains for the game. In standard playground fashion, each boy then chose one classmate after another to join their team until everyone had been selected. I remember standing there, expecting to be pickedearly as part of a strategy to build a good team. I was one of the better athletes in class, so I wasn''t being egotistical, I was just being logical. The captains, being boys, started by picking boys. I was the tallest kid in class, so they couldn''t miss me, but boy after boy was chosen before me. Then the last boy besides me, a kid who was notorious for having no athletic abilities at all, was chosen. Being the last boy picked hurts, a lot.

But as a 9-year-old, that pain doesn''t compare to the humiliation of not being picked at all, of watching as the two captains called out the girls'' names one after another until the very last girl--a girl whom I could lap around a track in a sprint--was chosen. I was the only person left. By default I ended up on the team with the tough luck of having to pick second. Like many kids, I''d been bullied and teased before, made fun of, picked on, and laughed at. But not like this. This was in front of all my classmates. I was made to appear not only less than the other guys, but I was shown to be less even than the girls. It was deliberate and intentional humiliation--for a reason I can''t even remember.

In that moment, I decided that I would never be picked last in sports again. In response to their snub, I set out to "prove" those boys wrong and show them how good I actually was. I went out during that game and literally crushed every single one of them. I returned the humiliation they gave me by dominating them, not only in that inconsequential game of dodgeball but in every game I ever played from that point forward, physically reminding them of their mistakes. I dedicated my life after school to becoming the biggest, fastest, strongest athlete I could become. Without a doubt, this was the fuel for my drive to become Al.