Where I grew up, boys are told not to cry. So when my father lost his job and things got bad at home, I did not cry. I got angry instead. I fought at school, I stopped going to class, and I pushed my friends away.
A friend dragged me to a Fortify football afternoon. I only went for the match. At half time we sat in a circle and the coach asked a simple question: "What do you do when you are stressed?" Most of the boys said what I would have said: nothing, you just keep quiet.
We kept coming back every week, and slowly the talks got more honest. Somebody spoke about drinking, somebody about pressure to provide for his family. I spoke about my father.
What changed for me was learning that being strong and asking for help are not opposites. I still play every week. I also talk.
