A couple of years ago, I worked with a young man, whom I’ll call Aiden, who was struggling with severe anxiety. At 21, he found it nearly impossible to go out in public without experiencing overwhelming self-consciousness that triggered panic attacks. Over six months, his anxiety escalated into obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), a condition often rooted in attempts to control anxiety through compulsive behaviors. When we first met, Aiden felt completely out of control.
Aiden’s Struggles and Complexities
Aiden’s anxieties were multifaceted. He froze at the thought of continuing his college courses and found job searching terrifying. When his parents went on vacation, his anxiety spiraled into full-blown panic attacks. Beneath these struggles lay a profound sense of shame—he felt deeply flawed and unworthy of showing himself in public.
Despite being an attractive young man, Aiden was convinced otherwise. He perceived himself as ugly, too short (despite being 5’10”), and “skinny fat,” despite rigorous gym workouts six times a week. His OCD manifested in compulsive behaviors like staying up all night scrolling social media platforms like Reddit and TikTok. He became engrossed in trends like “looksmaxxing,” “auramaxxing,” and “smellmaxxing,” which promote obsessive efforts to enhance physical appearance. These trends included extreme measures like chewing gum marketed to sculpt jawlines or using anabolic steroids to appear more masculine.
The Quest for Hyper-Masculinity
Aiden’s obsession with physical appearance mirrored a broader cultural trend among young men striving for hyper-masculinity. However, this pursuit often left them emotionally stunted and unable to form meaningful relationships. Many of these young men boasted about one-night stands but lacked the skills or interest to engage in deeper emotional connections. They placed all their value on external appearances, making therapeutic engagement particularly challenging.
As a former Olympic athlete, I used my background to connect with Aiden through his interest in physicality. This approach allowed us to explore his emotional life—a realm he had rarely ventured into before.
Family Dynamics and Emotional Roots
Aiden’s family history revealed significant influences on his struggles. His mother, a former fitness model who had battled an eating disorder, focused heavily on his appearance, preparing meals and encouraging bodybuilding programs but neglecting his emotional needs. His father, though hardworking and supportive, admitted to feeling “flummoxed” about how to help Aiden. He recognized parallels between his own social insecurities and his son’s struggles but felt ill-equipped to address them.
When I asked Aiden’s father about how he was parented emotionally, he shared painful memories of being shamed for expressing fear or vulnerability. This pattern of emotional invalidation repeated itself in his parenting of Aiden, perpetuating a cycle of shame and fear.
The Therapeutic Journey
Over two years of weekly therapy sessions, Aiden gradually opened up about his emotions. I reframed vulnerability as a form of “mental muscle,” which resonated with him as a challenge to build inner strength. Through this process, we uncovered the core issue: a deeply sad young boy burdened by shame for having strong emotions. His body became a canvas onto which he projected all his insecurities.
Aiden’s story reflects a broader societal issue: the exploitation of young men’s insecurities by social media algorithms and advertisers, much like what has historically been done with young women. These platforms profit from amplifying feelings of inadequacy, driving compulsive behaviors like those seen in Aiden.
A Call for Understanding
To truly support young men like Aiden, we must address their emotional complexities rather than focusing solely on external behaviors or appearances. Beneath the bravado, steroid-enhanced physiques, and curated social media profiles lie vulnerable individuals grappling with fear and self-doubt. Without recognizing and addressing these deeper issues, we risk perpetuating their struggles—and potentially fueling anger toward a world they feel has wronged them. Our neglect may be creating real-life time bombs.