Struggle Creates Connection

Anthony Alvarado
Jun 2
3 min read

It’s time to talk about what real strength looks like.

Hey friends,

It’s June—Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month.And this year, I’v

e made a decision.

I’m not just talking about mental health.I’m living it out loud.

That means sharing my struggles—not just the polished versions or the Instagram captions, but the hard, uncomfortable truths. The kind most of us avoid posting in real time.

Why? Because vulnerability isn’t easy.

Especially for men.Most of us weren’t taught how to name our feelings.We weren’t taught how to slow down, ask for help, or listen to our own needs.We were taught how to perform, push through, stay “on,” and keep it together.

But here’s what I’ve learned after 12+ years of sharing my story—of addiction, loss, failure, healing, and redemption:

Struggle creates connection.

When we tell the truth about our pain, we help others feel less alone in theirs.

I’ve come to believe that one of the most powerful things we can do as men—especially as leaders, educators, fathers, and creatives—is to tell the truth. Not just after we’ve survived something, but in the middle of it.

And truthfully?

I have a tendency to let my engine run hot… even when the tank is empty.I push through. I grind. I stay productive. I keep going.

But that’s not strength.That’s disconnection.

This Month, I’m Doing Something Different

Instead of only showing up with the wins, I’m also sharing the burnout.The setbacks. The mistakes. The moments I’ve had to unlearn what I thought strength looked like.

Because here’s the deeper truth:

Many people—especially young men—don’t speak out because they don’t believe their voice matters.And when you feel like your voice doesn’t matter, you begin to feel like you don’t matter.

That kind of disconnection is at the root of so many struggles in our schools, workplaces, and homes.But there is another way forward.

Storytelling Heals

In jails, treatment centers, boardrooms, and classrooms, I’ve seen something profound happen when people are given permission to tell the truth:

They soften.They connect.They heal.

That’s the power of storytelling.

Not the curated highlight reel—but the real stories.The ones with scars. The ones with broken parts. The ones that remind us we’re still here. Still healing. Still human.

And that kind of vulnerability? That’s where change begins.

Mental Health Isn’t Just About Breakdown. It’s About Fitness.

Last month, during Mental Health Awareness Month, I shared something that still rings true:

Mental health isn’t just about avoiding breakdown.It’s about building mental fitness.

That’s been a huge shift for me—especially over the past 90 days. I’ve felt burnout creeping in, the kind that lives in your body before it ever shows up in your inbox or calendar.

Here’s what mental fitness has looked like for me lately:

Prioritizing quality sleep
Drinking more water than coffee
Saying “no” to protect my “yes”
Getting outside
Reducing screen time
Tracking my stress and rest
Listening to my nervous system

Because here’s the truth:

Burnout lives in the body. Healing starts in the nervous system.Breath. Pace. Space. These aren’t just buzzwords—they’re tools.

Mental fitness isn’t about doing more.It’s about doing less—with more intention.

Slow is strong. Rest is part of the work. Recovery matters.

Let’s Rewrite What Strength Looks Like

This isn’t just about me—it’s about us.

If you’re part of a team, a school, a creative space, a community of men—I want to bring this conversation to your space.

Whether that’s through:

A keynote or workshop
A roundtable discussion
A storytelling experience
Or something designed just for your community

Let’s talk about what real strength looks like. Let’s show the next generation that they don’t have to carry it all alone.

📩 Reach out here: weallrisetogether@gmail.com

To Every Man Who’s Been Taught to Hide His Pain:

You’re not alone.

This month, I’m choosing to walk in the messy, honest, in-progress kind of healing.To stop glorifying the grind.To listen to my body.To pause, rest, and reconnect.