Why Grown Men Struggle to Make Friends (And How to Fix It)
Men are losing friends at alarming rates, but most won't talk about it. Here's how to build real connections as an adult.
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Men are losing friends at alarming rates, but most won't talk about it. Here's how to build real connections as an adult.
“A friend is someone who knows all of you and still loves you.” – Elbert Hubbard And that is exactly why it hurts so deeply when a friendship falls apart. Unlike romance, there is often an unspoken belief that friendship will be a constant in an unpredictable world. Friends become our safe place, our chosen family, the people we imagine will be beside us for the long haul. Whether it is a lifelong companion from childhood or a newer connection formed later in life, close friends know our backstory and our vulnerabilities. They see us at our most unfiltered, through life’s highs and lows, and accept us just as we are. That kind of connection feels rare and deeply comforting. Think about the warmth that comes from sharing dreams, secrets and stories over coffee or a glass of wine. Those moments are not just emotionally nourishing, they also trigger powerful chemical reactions in the body. Laughter and connection release dopamine and endorphins, trust encourages oxytocin, and the feeling of being valued strengthens serotonin. Friendship does more than lift our mood, it helps calm our nervous system and brings a sense of ease. When life becomes heavy, friends often show up in meaningful ways. They organise meals, check in without being asked, help with the kids or simply sit beside us when words feel hard to find. Over time, a quiet reliability forms. Because the connection feels so nourishing, we may overlook small frustrations and remind ourselves that no friendship is perfect. We soften, adjust and make space for one another, creating a protective bubble in an otherwise busy world. In neuroscience, this sense of safety is called belonging. Our brains are wired for it. In early human history, belonging to a group meant survival. We shared resources, protected one another and stayed alert to danger together. That wiring still exists today. When we feel we belong, our nervous system settles into a state of safety. So when a friendship breaks down, the grief can feel surprisingly intense. The person we relied on is suddenly absent, and the loss can trigger deep feelings of rejection. It may feel disorienting, like losing a steady anchor we never imagined would disappear. Romantic relationships can be exhilarating, full of excitement and possibility. Yet many of us understand, somewhere deep down, that romance carries risk. Hearts can break and relationships can end, and it is often our friends who help us through those moments. When a trusted friendship ends, it can feel as though a piece of our emotional foundation has shifted. The pain is not only about losing the person, but also about losing the sense of belonging that existed within the friendship. It is not necessarily a failure, but sometimes a reminder that certain relationships are only meant for a season. To help navigate the loss of a friendship, therapist Justine Williams suggests a gentle three-step approach: see, feel and hear. First, see the friendship clearly. Try to view it with perspective, noticing it as it truly was rather than through an idealised lens. Focus your energy on the people who genuinely lift you up and value you. Next, feel your grief rather than pushing it away. Allow sadness to move through you and practise compassion towards yourself. Accept what you cannot control, and if you feel stuck, seeking professional support can help untangle lingering guilt or self-doubt. Finally, hear your inner wisdom. Ask yourself what advice you would offer a child, sibling or close friend in the same situation. Trust that guidance and allow yourself the time and space needed to heal. Friendship breakups can be deeply painful, but they can also invite reflection, growth and a renewed understanding of what connection truly means. By Justine Williamswww.thefeelgoodstudio.com.au Instagram: @thefeelgoodstudio
Why regular skin checks should be part of your health care Australia has one of the highest rates of skin cancer in the world. More than two in three of us will be diagnosed with some form of it in our lifetime — a statistic that makes understanding this disease not just useful, but essential. The primary culprit? Ultraviolet (UV) radiation from the sun. While we all love our outdoor lifestyle, that exposure adds up over the years, especially for those with fair or freckled skin, a family history of skin cancer, or simply the passing of time. The good news is that when caught early, most skin cancers are highly treatable. So, what exactly should you be looking out for? There are three main types of skin cancer, and each behaves differently. carcinoma (BCC) is the most common, accounting for roughly two-thirds of all cases. It develops in the top layer of skin and, while it can cause local damage, it rarely spreads to other parts of the body. You might notice it as a pearly bump, a flat flesh-coloured or pinkish patch, or a sore that heals and then returns. Squamous cell carcinoma (SCC) about one in three skin cancers and tends to appear on sun-exposed areas like the face, ears, hands, and arms. It often looks like a firm red bump, a scaly patch, or a sore that doesn’t heal. Left untreated, SCC can spread, which is why early detection matters. Then there’s melanoma – the one that rightly gets the most attention. Although it accounts for only around one per cent of skin cancers, melanoma is the most dangerous because it’s more likely to spread to other parts of the body. It often appears as a new or changing mole, so any spot that’s asymmetrical, has uneven borders, varies in colour, or is growing in size should be checked without delay. There are also rarer types, including Merkel cell carcinoma, angiosarcoma, and dermatofibrosarcoma, but these are far less common. A useful rule of thumb for checking moles is the ABCDE guide: look for Asymmetry, irregular Borders, uneven Colour, a Diameter larger than six millimetres, and any Evolving changes in size, shape or feel. If anything ticks even one of those boxes, get it checked. When it comes to treatment, options depend on the type and stage of the cancer. Surgery to remove the affected area is the most common approach, but your doctor may also recommend cryotherapy (freezing), topical creams, or radiation therapy. For more advanced cases, immunotherapy and targeted therapy have become increasingly effective. The earlier it’s found, the simpler and more effective treatment tends to be. Prevention remains your strongest line of defence. Wear SPF 50+ sunscreen daily – yes, even on cloudy days – and reapply every two hours when outdoors. Seek shade during peak UV hours (typically between 10am and 3pm), and cover up with broad-brimmed hats, sunglasses, and protective clothing. Most importantly, make regular skin checks part of your routine. Whether that’s a self- check at home every few months or an annual visit to your GP or dermatologist, staying vigilant is the single best thing you can do. Your skin is worth paying attention to. A five-minute check could save your life. ‘Dr Maria Macaspac at Medical @ Australia Fair has a special interest in skin cancer detection and recently diagnosed a squamous cell carcinoma on my leg, which was immediately attended to and resulted in no further surgery. I’m thankful that she picked it up so quickly.’ Leanne Hart
The truth is, it doesn’t have to be overwhelming or involve drastic changes. This is something we’ve specialised in for over 25 years—helping women achieve lasting results. With exciting new research finally shining a light on women’s health, we’re here to cut through the noise and show you what training and nutrition should really look like to help you thrive through perimenopause, menopause and beyond. This stage of life often brings a wave of unexpected physical and emotional changes, largely driven by the natural decline in oestrogen. This shift can impact almost every system in the body – temperature regulation, memory, sleep, bone density, cardiovascular health and mental wellbeing. It’s important to remember that every woman’s experience is unique, and there’s no one-size-fits-all approach. That said, there are some general recommendations when it comes to nutrition and training that can make this transition smoother and support long-term health. Nutrition: Fuel and Nourish Your Body After years of being sold restriction and diet culture, it’s time to shift the focus to nourishment. Protein is especially important during menopause to preserve muscle mass, support mood and balance hormones. Loss of muscle can reduce bone density, affect quality of life and increase the risk of falls and fractures—protein helps protect against this. A rainbow of vegetables and whole foods provides fibre, antioxidants, and nutrients that support gut health, liver function and hormonal balance. Healthy fats from olive oil, avocado, nuts and seeds benefit brain and heart health, while limiting alcohol, caffeine, and processed foods can ease symptoms like hot flushes, poor sleep, and mood swings. We don’t need to overcomplicate it—focusing on whole, unprocessed foods and getting enough protein will set you up for success. Exercise: A Non-Negotiable Strength training is one of the most powerful tools for managing menopause. It helps maintain and build muscle mass, improve bone density, support metabolic health and boost mood. Committing to at least two weight sessions per week, ideally within a structured programme guided by a trainer, can ensure you hold onto the strength and mobility that keep you healthy and capable for life.Menopause doesn’t have to signal decline—it’s a transition, not an ending. This stage can be an opportunity to reassess, realign, and truly thrive. If you’re feeling unsure of where to start, our research-based programmes and personalised support are designed to help women achieve their goals through this stage of life. Discover how strongHER can give you the tools and guidance you need to feel strong, confident, and in control at www.visionpersonaltraining.com/strongher
Beauty experts reveal what's really happening when treatments claim to "tighten fascia" — and which procedures actually work.
By Justine Williams Somewhere in your forties, something shifts. If you are not knee-deep in raising children or standing at the peak of your career, you may find yourself quietly planting the seeds for the next chapter of life. And while the magic that unfolds in your fifties deserves its own story, the fabulous forties bring a transformation all of their own. Turning 40 can feel like being welcomed into a secret society of women who finally know themselves. Along with the wisdom comes a few unexpected gifts. Your chin may suddenly sprout a stubborn dark hair that appears overnight, your memory might occasionally play hide- and-seek, and your body begins to change in ways your wardrobe never anticipated. Jeans feel tighter, aches appear without invitation, and yet something surprising happens. You start choosing your battles differently. By this stage of life, many women realise they no longer have the energy to pretend. The wine nights with draining company begin to lose their appeal. Shoes that look beautiful but feel impossible to walk in quietly make their way to the donation pile. Even the small rituals we once tolerated, endless small talk or saying yes to every invitation, begin to fade. There is a growing awareness that time and energy are valuable resources. Where once we might have chased spontaneity at any cost, the idea of a good meal, a comfortable chair and a peaceful evening can feel far more appealing. It is not about becoming boring. It is about becoming selective. The French often speak about effortless elegance, dressing and then removing one thing to create balance. The same philosophy can be applied to life. Emotional trimming, social pruning and healthy boundaries become less about restriction and more about clarity. In your forties, putting yourself first no longer feels selfish. It feels necessary. Many women describe hearing their inner voice more clearly during this decade. Self- esteem strengthens, confidence grows and there is a quiet understanding that perfection is overrated. Laughter replaces pressure, genuine connection matters more than obligation, and authenticity becomes the new standard. This stage of life is not about losing who you were. It is about embracing who you have become. The forties invite you to stop performing and start living, to choose joy with intention and to recognise the wiser, more radiant version of yourself that has been quietly waiting to emerge.
What an 85-year-old’s boredom taught me about what men really need. My dad said something the other night that stopped me mid-sentence. We were talking about nothing in particular, when he announced: “I’m bored.” It wasn’t a complaint. My father doesn’t complain much. It was a statement of fact, delivered by an 85-year-old man with good eyesight, good hands, and better stories than most people have sense to listen to. A man who used to run Rotary events, who fielded phone calls from members at all hours, who was always organising this or that. I’d never heard him use that word before. Bored. It sat between us like something broken. I started rattling off suggestions—things to fill the hours, activities different from his very regular routine. But I was missing the point. It wasn’t about doing something. It was about the shape his life had lost. Rotary had given him more than a project list. It had given him people who needed him, a phone that rang, a reason to be somewhere on Thursday nights. At some stage, the commitment got too much for his age, so he stepped back. The shed closed quietly. And now he was bored in a way that no hobby could fix. That’s when someone on a local Facebook page made an observation. A bloke had just moved from Sydney, posted looking to make friends, and within hours came a suggestion that stood out from all the others: join a Men’s Shed. I’d heard of the Sheds before—mostly in passing, the way you hear about things without really knowing what they are. But sitting there listening to my dad, I started digging. What I found wasn’t just a solution for him. It was something I’d been missing in my thinking about loneliness, about men, about what happens when the structure of your life falls away. WHAT A MEN’S SHED ACTUALLY IS Here’s what a Men’s Shed actually is: part workshop, part gathering place, entirely unpretentious. Walk in and you might see men restoring bicycles, fixing lawn mowers, or building furniture for local schools. You’ll see younger blokes learning from older ones, picking up skills and something about life in the process. But you’ll also see tea-bags, coffee cups, and a comfortable area where men can sit and talk—no agenda, no obligation. You can drop in for a cuppa. You can stay for a project. You can do both or neither. The point isn’t productivity. The point is presence. As one veteran shedder put it: “Down at the shed, we’ve got blokes who come in because it’s the only social interaction they get. Apart from Meals on Wheels or saying G’day to the shopkeeper when they buy their morning paper. And you know what? That’s bloody alright. That’s what the shed’s for.” It sounds small. It isn’t. THE COST OF LONELINESS Loneliness operates quietly. It doesn’t announce itself. It whispers that you’re fine with your own company—which you are, up to a point. Then it suggests you don’t need what you used to have. Then it becomes true. The research is blunt about the cost. Isolation carries mortality risks comparable to smoking. It’s not metaphorical damage. It’s the kind that shows up in hospital records and coroner’s reports. But there’s something else happening at the Sheds, something the statistics don’t quite capture. Men don’t often admit they need their mates. We’re taught to be self-sufficient, to sort ourselves out, to not make a fuss. But in a shed-with the noise of tools, with something to do with your hands, with permission to sit quietly or talk endlessly-that teaching gets quietly overridden. Connection happens. Not forced. Not therapeutic. Just… there. It keeps the wheels turning. It’s what some researchers call “fella-friendship”- kind of connection men build shoulder-to-shoulder, rather than face-to-face. WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT TO FIND What strikes me now is how many versions of this problem I see around me. There’s my dad, structured out of structure. There’s the bloke from Sydney, starting over in a new place, needing to know where his people are. There’s the man isolated by choice or circumstance, ticking over on Meals on Wheels and morning paper transactions, waiting for permission to sit somewhere and belong. And there’s me. I didn’t realise what I was looking for when I started researching the Sheds. I thought I was trying to fix my dad. I was actually noticing something about myself – that I’d stopped paying attention to the men around me, that I hadn’t thought about what happens when a man loses his anchor, that I’d assumed boredom was a personal failure rather than a sign of a life missing something real. The Shed works because it doesn’t pretend to be therapy. It’s not trying to save anyone. It’s just a place where men can show up, make a cuppa, have a chin-wag, maybe build something, and know that showing up is enough. That the company matters. That they’re not alone. My dad hasn’t joined yet. But I’ve stopped trying to convince him. Instead, I’ve told him where the local one meets. I’ve mentioned that the bloke who runs it is good company. And I’ve left it at that – which, it turns out, is exactly the right move. Because the Shed isn’t about being saved. It’s about being seen. And sometimes that’s all a man needs to stop being bored. For more information and to find a Men’s Shed near you go to mensshed.org
Words by Heidi Horne From the outside, she looks like she has it all together. She is capable. Reliable. The one everyone depends on. She gets things done, keeps life moving and rarely drops the ball. But beneath that calm exterior, many high-functioning women are running on fumes. They are not collapsing. Not checking out. Just quietly pushing through. This is hidden burnout, and it hides best in the women who look the most capable. It is a story I hear often in my work. For a long time, it was mine too. Many of the women I now support describe the same experience. Functioning. Delivering. Showing up for everyone else. Yet quietly depleted themselves. For years, I was the woman who could juggle everything. A business, a family, travel, speaking commitments, volunteering. On paper, it looked like I was thriving. Inside, I was sprinting through life collecting invisible medals for being busy, productive and always available. Until life forced me to stop. A snowboarding accident in Japan on Christmas Eve several years ago meant complete stillness. No multitasking. No pushing through. In that quiet space, I realised something confronting. I had not been managing stress. I had trained myself to live in it. Like many high-functioning women, I did not recognise the signs because I was still performing. Still coping. Still achieving. But functioning is not the same as being well. The mental load that never switches off Many women carry an invisible load that follows them long after the workday ends. We move from one role to another without transition. Professional to parent. Leader to carer. Problem-solver to emotional support. Our minds barely land before the next demand arrives. Even when we sit down, our nervous system often does not. Busy becomes a badge of honour. Multitasking becomes a measure of worth. Yet only a small percentage of people can truly multitask effectively. Most of us are task-switching, which increases cortisol, reduces focus and leaves us feeling scattered and wired. It is no surprise that so many women feel both exhausted and unable to switch off. The data is catching up Research shows that a significant portion of people experience stress throughout much of the day, particularly those in high-responsibility roles. In Australia, burnout continues to rise as work and life blur together and genuine downtime disappears. On average, people check their phones nearly 100 times a day. Each glance signals urgency to the brain, reinforcing a constant low-grade stress response. Many of us reach for our phones first thing in the morning, prioritising notifications over presence. If you feel wired, tired and constantly on edge, it is not because you are failing. It is because your nervous system has not been given space to reset. Why traditional self-care falls short Much of the advice given to women focuses on taking a break or booking a holiday. But hidden burnout is rarely caused by one major event. It is the accumulation of small, unresolved stressors over time. A week away may offer relief, but it does not rewire daily patterns. What we need is not escape. We need recovery woven into everyday life. What a reset can look like A reset does not require hours of spare time. It requires small interruptions to the stress cycle already in motion. At the start of the day, before reaching for your phone, take a moment to smile, even if it feels forced. Smiling triggers the release of neurotransmitters that signal safety to the brain. Visualise your day going well. Notice your internal dialogue and gently shift it towards something more supportive. During the day, especially before a meeting or difficult conversation, pause and breathe slowly. A longer exhale activates the parasympathetic nervous system, the body’s natural calming mechanism. This simple practice can lower stress hormones and restore clarity. At the end of the day, instead of replaying everything left undone, acknowledge three small wins. This helps signal completion to the brain and supports genuine rest rather than carrying tension into the night. These are not elaborate wellness rituals. They are small neurological cues that tell your system when to activate and when to stand down. Burnout is not solved by escaping your life. It is eased by learning how to reset within it, one small moment at a time. To learn more about Heidi Horne’s work, visit heidihorne.co
What your child needs when they tell you they’re being bullied It might come at the kitchen table on a Tuesday night. Or in the car on the way home from school, when they’re staring out the window and you’ve run out of things to say. Your kid goes quiet for a moment, then says it: Something’s been happening. There’s a pause. They’re watching your face, reading you for signs. Will you believe them? Will you make it worse? That moment – the one where they finally speak – is everything. Why This Matters Bullying isn’t character-building. It’s not something kids just need to toughen up and get through. Research shows Australian students face some of the highest rates among OECD countries, with around one in four school-aged children affected. Seven in ten children aged 12–13 have experienced at least one bullying-like behaviour within a year. The forms it takes are familiar: being left out on purpose, being made fun of in cruel ways, having lies spread about them, being pushed around or made afraid. Each one chips away at something essential. What many parents don’t realise is the lasting impact. Bullying can affect performance at school. It increases the risk of depression and anxiety. Young people report feeling isolated – and that isolation, that sense of going through it alone, is often the worst part. When your child finally tells you, they’re not looking for you to fix it with a lecture or a dramatic reaction. They need a parent who understands what they’re facing and believes them. What Your Child Needs According to research on talking with children about bullying, when your child discloses what’s happening, seven things matter: 1. Belief. Many children don’t speak up because they fear not being taken seriously. A calm response tells them they made the right call by trusting you. 2. Being heard. Listen without interrupting. Don’t interrogate or rush to solve it. Let them talk openly about what’s going on. This is harder than it sounds – most parents want to jump into problem-solving mode. Resist that urge. 3. Trust that you’ll help. Your child needs to know that when they tell you something, you’re going to do something about it. Not overreact. Not make it worse. But act. 4. Hope. Bullying strips children of agency and leaves them feeling powerless. They need to believe things can get better. And they need to see that belief reflected in you. 5. Some control. Involve them in decisions about what happens next, even in small ways. This might mean deciding whether to talk to the school first, or what you’ll say when you do. When kids feel like they have some say, they start to reclaim their sense of agency. 6. Learning self-protective behaviours. Once they feel heard, work together on strategies. What can they do if it happens again? Who can they talk to at school? What does assertiveness look like in their situation? 7. Confidence rebuilt. Remind them that bullying is wrong and this isn’t their fault. Reinforce who they are beyond what’s been done to them. Sometimes children start to believe the awful things said about them. Your job is to remind them of their worth, their strengths, their value. What Happens When You Get This Right When kids trust that their parents will believe and help them, something shifts. They develop resilience – not by toughening up, but by knowing they’re not facing it alone. Research shows that a supportive home environment where children feel comfortable sharing strengthens their capacity to cope and recover. Your child learns that conflict can be navigated safely. That asking for help is a strength, not a weakness. That adults can be allies. That reaching out leads somewhere safe. Those lessons don’t just help them through school. They shape how they handle challenges, relationships and difficult conversations for the rest of their lives. When Things Feel Too Big Sometimes bullying affects a child deeply. If your child expresses intense emotions, talks about harming themselves, or seems unable to cope, that’s the moment to reach out for professional support immediately. A school counsellor, a GP, or a mental health professional can help carry the weight when it’s too heavy for you to carry alone. The Power of Showing Up Being the safe place isn’t complicated. It doesn’t require perfect words or the right strategy. It requires presence. It requires listening without judgement, believing without hesitation, and acting with care. In that quiet moment, when your child is watching your face for a reaction, you don’t need to fix everything. You just need to show them they’re not facing it alone. The Queensland Government is tackling bullying by giving parents new and expanded supports, including: a 7-day-a-week parent HOTLINE with trained counsellors @parentline more on the ground support from chaplains and dedicated wellbeing staff rapid support teams into bullying hotspots Find out more by visiting qld.gov.au/antibullying or visit ParentLine
In a world that moves quickly and reacts even faster, calm is often mistaken for the absence of chaos. But true calm is not found in perfectly managed environments or conflict-free lives. It is found in the quiet, deliberate space between stimulus and response, where choice lives. Every day, we are presented with moments that test us. A sharp email. A difficult conversation. A situation that feels unfair or out of our control. The instinct is to react, to match intensity with intensity, to defend, to escalate, to prove. Yet this is where calm quietly offers an alternative. Calm is not passive. It is not avoidance, nor is it silence in the face of difficulty. It is an active, internal decision to pause. To step back from the immediacy of emotion and ask: How do I want to respond here? This distinction, between reaction and response, is where personal power resides. When we react, we hand over control to the situation. Our emotions lead, often fuelled by past experiences, assumptions, or heightened stress. When we respond, we reclaim authorship. We choose our tone, our words, our timing. We remain grounded in who we are, rather than being shaped by what is happening around us. There is a discipline in this. It requires awareness. It asks us to recognise when we are being pulled into someone else’s urgency, someone else’s conflict, or someone else’s emotional state. And then, consciously, to return to our own centre. This is what it means to “stay in your lane.” Staying in your lane is not disengagement; it is clarity. It is understanding what is yours to carry and what is not. It is resisting the urge to absorb, fix, or react to everything that comes your way. It is choosing measured, intentional action over impulsive reaction. In high-conflict environments, whether in relationships, workplaces, or during life transitions. This becomes even more critical. Calm does not remove the challenge, but it transforms how you move through it. Peace, then, is not something you wait for. It is something you practice. And often, it begins with a single, powerful choice: Not to react, but to respond.