A Real Struggle
There was a time in my life when waking up felt like an impossible task. The alarm would go off, and before my feet even touched the floor, a heavy, suffocating weight would settle directly into my chest.
On the outside, I was doing what so many men do every single day – putting on the mask, cracking jokes, showing up to work, and telling everyone who asked, “I’m fine, mate. Just busy.” It was a well-practiced script designed to keep people at a distance. But on the inside, I was suffocating in plain sight.
“I’m fine, mate. Just busy.”
At my lowest point, that quiet despair felt completely permanent. I felt entirely detached from the world around me, trapped in a dark, relentless cycle of burnout, anxiety, and deep isolation.
My own mind became my worst enemy, whispering lies every single day with terrifying conviction: that I was an absolute burden to everyone around me, that no one could possibly understand what was happening inside my head, and that my family and friends would somehow be better off without me.
I genuinely believed that asking for help was a cardinal sign of weakness, and that admitting I was struggling meant I had failed completely as a man.
Talking to the gents at a MWAT meet-up
The Daunting Feeling
For a long time, the thought of traditional, clinical support terrified me. The prospect of sitting in a sterile room, facing someone across a desk, and trying to articulate complex, fractured feelings I didn’t even understand myself felt overwhelmingly intimidating.
Eventually, breaking point forced me to take the step I had feared for so long: I finally accessed therapy. It wasn’t an instant fix, but opening up in a professional environment allowed me to start untangling the years of suppressed emotions.
A MWAT hike with the lads
Alongside therapy, I began working directly with a men’s coach to rebuild my self-esteem from the ground up. That work was transformative – it helped me confront my inner critic, dismantle the toxic belief that my worth was tied to always being “tough,” and taught me how to rebuild a genuine sense of self-respect.
“First, you realise that “I’m fine” is quite literally the most dangerous sentence in the male vocabulary.”
Through that journey of personal recovery, two hard truths became glaringly clear. First, you realise that “I’m fine” is quite literally the most dangerous sentence in the male vocabulary. Second, while therapy and coaching gave me invaluable tools, I realised there was still a massive gap in local communities: men desperately needed an everyday, accessible, non-judgmental space just to decompress and connect before reaching crisis point.
So, I decided to build it.
Something So Simple
It started with a simple, grounded concept back in 2021: “What if men didn’t have to sit face-to-face in a clinical room to talk about what they were carrying? What if we just got outside into the open air, walked shoulder-to-shoulder, and let the physical movement take the pressure off?”
“What if men didn’t have to sit face-to-face in a clinical room to talk about what they were carrying?”
The very first walk was just a small, nervous group of guys stepping out into the fresh air together. There were no clinical forms to fill out, no formal agendas to follow, and absolutely no expectations. You could talk about the weather, the weekend football match, or the heaviest challenge on your mind – or you could simply walk in total silence and take comfort in knowing you weren’t carrying it alone.
“That simple, shoulder-to-shoulder approach completely changed the trajectory of my life. As it turned out, it was the exact lifeline hundreds of other men were searching for as well.”
Since that first step, Men Walking and Talking has grown into a registered Community Interest Company with peer-led groups running weekly across the UK. Every single week, volunteer walk leaders step up in their local areas to ensure that no man in their community has to fight his battles in isolation.
Whilst on a new-partnership walk with Brighton & Hove Albion FC
Looking back at where I was – staring into the dark, convinced that things would never improve – I am living proof that change is possible. Therapy, coaching, and community saved my life, and your current situation is never your final destination, no matter how convincing those dark thoughts try to make it feel in the moment.
I didn’t start this organisation because I had all the answers figured out. I started it because I knew firsthand what it felt like to be completely broken, and I wanted to ensure that when another man hits his lowest point, he has a community ready to walk right alongside him
By Dan Reid, Founder of Men Walking and Talking.
