June is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month, and it offers an important reminder: even the people who seem strongest can become exhausted.

We often admire the person who keeps going no matter what. The one who takes care of everyone else, handles responsibilities without complaint, and shows up when others need them. Whether it’s a partner, parent, friend, caregiver, or provider, strength is often measured by how much someone can carry.

But what happens when the strong one is struggling?

Many people—especially men—have been taught that strength means pushing through, staying in control, never crying and handling problems alone. Over time, that mindset can make it difficult to recognize when stress, loneliness, disappointment, or grief have taken their toll.

Burnout doesn’t always look dramatic. Often, it shows up quietly as irritability, withdrawal, overworking, difficulty relaxing, trouble sleeping, feeling disconnected from loved ones, or simply moving through life on autopilot.

One of the reasons I chose the film You, Me & Tuscany as inspiration for this month’s Summer Reset theme is because of Michael’s story. On the surface, Michael appears capable, dependable, and successful. He is the one who has it together. The responsible one. The one others can count on.

Yet beneath that strength is a man carrying loss.

Throughout the film, we learn that Michael is grieving the deaths of his parents while also navigating disappointment in his romantic life. Like many people, he continues functioning, working, and showing up for others while carrying emotional pain that is largely invisible.

As a therapist, I found myself curious about another layer of Michael’s story as well. Michael was adopted into a family that does not physically look like him. Even though there is a biological connection mentioned, outsiders looking in would not think they were related. While the movie doesn’t deeply explore that experience, I couldn’t help but wonder what weight he may have carried over the years related to identity, belonging, expectations, or feeling the need to prove himself.

Sometimes when people spend years trying to fit in, earn approval, or avoid disappointing others, they become exceptionally responsible. They learn to be dependable. They become the problem-solvers. The caretakers. The strong ones.

And while those qualities can be admirable, they often come with a cost.

I also wondered whether some of Michael’s tension with Matteo reflected more than simple personality differences or jealousy. Family relationships are complicated, especially when grief, old wounds, and unspoken expectations are involved. Sometimes conflict isn’t just about what’s happening in the present moment. It’s connected to years of experiences, roles, and responsibilities that quietly shape how we see ourselves and one another.

That experience is more common than we often acknowledge.

Many men receive messages that encourage achievement, responsibility, and resilience but offer little guidance on processing grief, loneliness, rejection, or emotional pain. As a result, they may continue showing up for everyone else while becoming increasingly disconnected from themselves.

The truth is that emotional wellness isn’t just about avoiding a crisis. It’s about paying attention before exhaustion becomes overwhelming.

That’s why I love the idea of a summer reset.

A reset doesn’t require a plane ticket to Tuscany or a complete life overhaul. More often, it begins with small acts of reconnection: taking a walk without rushing, spending time with people who feel safe, having an honest conversation, setting healthier boundaries, or simply admitting, “I’m tired.”

This conversation isn’t only for men. It’s for anyone who has become so focused on being strong that they’ve forgotten how to receive support.

As we move into summer, consider this question:

Have you been surviving, or have you been living?

If you’ve been carrying more than anyone realizes, perhaps your reset begins here.

Not by trying harder.

Not by pushing through.

But by giving yourself permission to rest, grieve, reconnect, and remember that even the strongest people deserve support too.