Disability, Masculinity, and the Misuse of the "Toxic" Label By Dusty Wentworth — Military Veteran, Writer, Commentator

In the aftermath of war, injury, and illness, survival doesn't end on the battlefield. For men like me—veterans who returned home with invisible wounds such as PTSD, and who later developed chronic conditions like fibromyalgia and functional neurological disorder—the battle continues daily. It continues in the body, in the mind, and in the social expectations placed upon us.

And increasingly, it continues in a cultural climate that frames masculinity not as complex, but as dangerous.

Masculinity as Survival, Not Threat

The term “toxic masculinity” has gained mainstream traction over the last decade, largely due to social campaigns highlighting domestic violence, workplace harassment, and male mental health. While these conversations are necessary, they often fail to draw distinctions between maladaptive behaviour and survival traits.

Traits such as stoicism, assertiveness, and risk-taking—which are often labelled as “toxic”—are also the very traits that many men, particularly those with trauma or chronic illness, rely upon to survive. Stoicism is not simply emotional suppression; for men in severe pain or distress, it can be a self-regulating mechanism in the absence of appropriate care.

Research supports this. A 2019 study in the Journal of Pain found that men with chronic pain who used cognitive suppression (a form of emotional control) often showed better functionality in daily life compared to those who focused on emotional expression—though they also reported less emotional support.

Veterans, PTSD, and Cultural Disconnect

Military service leaves a psychological footprint. According to the UK Ministry of Defence, approximately one in ten UK veterans suffers from PTSD, with that number significantly higher among combat personnel. In the United States, estimates suggest that between 11% and 20% of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans experience PTSD in any given year. These figures underrepresent those who go undiagnosed due to stigma or whose trauma manifests in physical symptoms, such as those found in functional neurological disorder (FND).

FND—one of my own diagnoses—is estimated to affect between 4 and 12 people per 100,000 annually. Studies show strong associations between FND and unresolved trauma, particularly in military populations.

In such cases, emotional restraint, compartmentalisation, and decisiveness aren’t symptoms of dysfunction; they’re behavioural adaptations shaped by the demands of combat and trauma. Once home, however, these same traits are viewed with suspicion or disdain.

The Pain Gap: Masculinity and Chronic Illness

Men are also less likely to receive proper diagnoses or care for chronic pain conditions. A 2020 review in BMJ Open found that men are frequently underdiagnosed with fibromyalgia, often dismissed because of gendered assumptions about pain tolerance or perceived exaggeration.

According to Versus Arthritis, 75% of people diagnosed with fibromyalgia in the UK are women. But this may reflect diagnostic bias rather than biological reality. Many men live with chronic pain for years before seeking help—partly because society conditions us to endure rather than express.

This reflects a broader problem: many disabled or working-class men aren’t ignoring their health due to “toxic masculinity”—they are using the only coping strategies they’ve ever been taught, often in systems that punish vulnerability and delay recognition.

Mental Health Campaigns: Missing the Margins

Mental health awareness has improved, but inclusivity remains a major problem. Public campaigns often target middle-class, neurotypical men with simplified slogans like “It’s okay to cry” or “Talk to someone.” While well-meaning, these messages fail to reach men whose environments—military, blue-collar, or disability-based—require a different set of tools and language for coping.

According to the Office for National Statistics, men still account for three-quarters of all suicide deaths in England and Wales. Suicide remains the leading cause of death for men under 50. And yet, many mental health interventions continue to overlook how trauma, disability, and class shape the male experience.

A 2021 survey by the charity Mind found that men from working-class backgrounds are significantly less likely to seek formal psychological help. Instead, they are more likely to self-medicate, isolate, or engage in high-risk behaviour—all of which are coping mechanisms forged under pressure, not expressions of indifference or aggression.

Reframing the Narrative

We need to stop mistaking endurance for denial and resilience for dysfunction. Traits like stoicism and emotional control are not always masks for toxicity; often, they are the result of necessity—honed in environments most people would never survive.

To be clear, this is not an argument for glorifying outdated models of masculinity. Violence, abuse, and misogyny should never be excused. But the blanket condemnation of masculine traits, without nuance or context, is a disservice to men who live with trauma, pain, and disability.

We need nuance:

Recognise that what is labelled “toxic” in one context may be adaptive in another.

Understand that disabled and traumatised men often rely on these traits to survive.

Challenge mental health campaigns and clinical approaches that view masculinity as something uniform and static.

Final Word

I didn’t survive combat, PTSD, chronic illness, and a ruptured aneurysm by being in touch with my feelings. I survived by using every scrap of discipline, control, and fortitude I had—traits now regarded by some as problematic.

Masculinity, like trauma, like disability, is complex. And unless we begin treating it as such, we risk further alienating the very men our society claims to be trying to save.

#Dustywentworth