Why Men Don’t Talk About Childhood Sexual Abuse

For a long time, I didn’t talk about what happened to me.

Not because it didn’t matter. Not because it didn’t hurt. But because I didn’t have the words for it, and I didn’t think anyone would understand even if I did.

That’s the reality for a lot of men. Childhood sexual abuse isn’t something we’re taught to speak about. It’s not something that gets openly discussed in the way it should. So instead, it gets buried. Pushed down. Locked away.

But it doesn’t stay there.

It shows up in other ways. In how you think, how you react, how you cope. It shows up in anger you can’t explain, anxiety that comes out of nowhere, or a constant feeling that something just isn’t right. For me, it showed up in addiction. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was trying to escape something I hadn’t even faced yet.

A lot of men are doing the same thing without even realising it. Not because they’re weak, but because they’ve never been given the space to understand what’s actually going on underneath.

From a young age, we’re taught to be strong, to toughen up, to keep things to ourselves. You don’t cry. You don’t talk about it. You just get on with it. So when something happens that’s confusing, violating, or painful, there’s no roadmap for what to do with it.

So we stay quiet.

And that silence becomes normal.

But silence doesn’t mean it’s gone. It just means it’s hidden. And what’s hidden has a way of working its way into everything else. Relationships, behaviour, mental health, the way you see yourself.

For years, I thought I was the problem. I thought the way I felt, the way I reacted, the way I coped — that was just me. It took a long time to realise there was a reason behind it. A root to it.

That’s why speaking matters. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary.

And speaking doesn’t have to mean standing on a stage or telling the whole world. Sometimes it’s just saying it out loud for the first time. Sometimes it’s one conversation. One moment of honesty where you stop pretending you’re fine.

That’s where things start to shift.

The more men that speak, the more it breaks that idea that we’re supposed to carry this alone. It creates space for others to recognise themselves in it. To realise they’re not the only one thinking or feeling the way they do.

If you’re reading this and something’s hit home, you don’t have to figure it all out today. You don’t have to have the right words. But you don’t have to keep it all in either.

Because staying silent might feel safer in the moment… but it keeps you stuck in the long run.

And things don’t change until something is brought into the open.