Mens Mental Health Month

Release the Stigma: Embrace Vulnerability

Let’s talk about it. June is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month—a time to pause, reflect, and break open the conversation we’ve been taught to bury. For generations, men—especially Black and Brown men—have been told to be strong. But the definition of strength has been warped. Strength became silence. It became isolation. It became putting everyone else first and yourself last.

At City Sweat Club, we’re calling for a shift.

If we’re going to talk about real health, we need to talk about mental health. If we’re going to build stronger bodies, we need to start with stronger minds—and even stronger communities.

Check In, Not Out

Carrying the weight of the world doesn’t make you a man. Checking in—on yourself, on your people, on your mind—that’s the real work. It’s easy to get lost in the noise, the roles, the routine. But every man needs space to breathe, process, and be heard. Whether it’s journaling, therapy, prayer, or just texting your closest friend, make that space a priority.

You don’t have to have it all together. You just have to start showing up for yourself.

Move to Manage the Pressure

Stress doesn’t always look like panic attacks. Sometimes, it shows up in your shoulders, in your sleep, in the way you snap when you don’t mean to.

Movement is medicine. It’s not just about the calories or the gains—it’s about the release. A 30-minute walk, a circuit workout, or a dance in your living room can shift your entire day.

Your body knows how to process emotion. You just have to give it the chance.

Routine Is Resistance

In a world that constantly pulls us in a thousand directions, routine is resistance. It’s your anchor. Your rhythm. Your reset. Maybe it’s five minutes of stillness in the morning. Maybe it’s cooking your own breakfast or setting an intention before your day begins.

Whatever it is—claim it. Protect it. Let it center you when everything else feels out of control.

Connection Is Courage

Let’s be honest: isolation is quiet, and that makes it dangerous. When you feel off, your instinct might be to withdraw—but that’s when you need people the most. Grab a friend for a run. Drop into a class. Text your brother and ask how he’s doing.

We were never meant to do this alone. And you don’t have to.

The Cost of Silence

Detroit filmmaker Qasim Basir captured this truth beautifully in To Live and Die and Live. The film follows Muhammad, a successful director who returns home for a funeral—but beneath the surface, he’s unraveling. Grief, addiction, pressure—it all collides.

The story is raw, poetic, and painfully familiar. It’s a quiet reminder of what happens when we carry too much for too long and never let it out. It’s also a reminder that healing is possible—but only when we stop pretending we’re fine.

Watch the trailer or explore more on Black Love →

This Month, We Move With Intention

Every run, every rep, every stretch this month is an act of resistance against the idea that silence is strength. We’re moving for our minds. For our brothers. For the ones who never had safe spaces to process what they were going through.

We’re not just working out—we’re working through.

Let’s release the stigma. Let’s rewrite what strength looks like. Let’s redefine what it means to be well.