Let’s stop pretending.
You’ve been man-keeping.
Maybe you don’t use that word, but you know exactly what I’m talking about. He’s your husband, your partner, your guy—but somehow, you’ve ended up being his only friend, his therapist, his cruise director, his one-woman support group. And you’re tired. Hell, you’re exhausted.
Here’s the dirty secret most women whisper when the guys aren’t around: men don’t know how to build and maintain friendships. They’re lonely as hell, but they won’t admit it. They don’t call a buddy to talk, they don’t join groups, they don’t prioritize community. Somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, they traded friendships for career, for family obligations, for the façade of independence—and now you’re the one carrying that loss.
And let’s be clear: man-keeping might be a new word, but it’s not a new concept. I’ve seen it for generations. My dad’s “friends”? Most were simply the husbands of my mom’s friends—the guys she dragged along and set up on grown-ass man play dates. My grandfather? I’m not sure he had a single friend who wasn’t provided by his social calendar coordinator—my grandma. Women have been organizing, propping up, and keeping men socially alive for decades, if not centuries.
The data proves it. In 1990, 55% of men said they had at least six close friends. By 2021, that number collapsed to 27%. Even worse, 15% of men now report having no close friends at all—five times higher than a generation ago. Middle-aged and older men are among the loneliest demographics in America, far less likely than women their age to say they have strong social support outside family. Only 20% of men say they received emotional support from a friend in the past week, compared to 40% of women. This isn’t just sad—it’s lethal. The U.S. Surgeon General warns that chronic loneliness carries the same health risk as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. And men in midlife are at the bullseye.
And it shows up everywhere. How many times have you heard a guy joke, “My wife is my best friend”—like it’s cute? It’s not cute. It’s sad. Having your wife as your best friend can be beautiful—but not if it’s because she’s your only friend. What he’s really admitting, without saying it, is that every other relationship in his life has been transactional. He’ll show up as long as there’s something in it for him—usually business, networking, or a surface-level distraction. He’s got colleagues, golf buddies, poker nights, drinking buddies—but no one he trusts with his actual soul. So he leans on her. For social connection. For his calendar. For “their” friends. She isn’t just his wife—she’s his lifeline. And while the meme makes people laugh, it’s not funny. It’s a neon sign flashing: this man has no real friends.
I’ve spoken to too many women in their 70s and 80s who are resentful of this, suffocated by it, living lives far smaller than they should because their husbands never built a world of their own. They became his world, and now they’re stuck carrying the weight of it.
And I see it all the time in my coaching practice. Women in their 40s, 50s, 60s sitting across from me saying some version of the same line: “I love him, but he’s shrinking. He doesn’t have any real friends. When he retires, I don’t know what we’ll do. He just clings to me.”
They didn’t sign up to raise a husband.
And yet, here they are—dragging him along to social events, covering for his silence, filling in the gaps when he has nothing to say. When the kids leave, when the job ends, when the routines of busyness slow down—too many men become shadows in their own homes. And it breaks marriages, breaks intimacy, and breaks the women who have to carry them.
Now, let me be clear: I’m not here to bash men. I am one. I’ve lived this, seen it, fought against it. I get why we fall into the trap. Our culture doesn’t teach boys how to sustain deep friendships. We’re taught to compete, to posture, to perform—but not to connect. So, by the time we’re men, we’ve got drinking buddies, golf partners, co-workers—but very few real friends. And when life punches us in the gut—when grief comes, when loss hits, when the walls close in—we’re screwed.
That’s why men need peer groups.
Not poker nights. Not fantasy football leagues. Not one more shallow distraction that helps us avoid the deeper work. Men need circles of brothers where they can actually show up. Where they can talk about what’s real. Where they can hear “me too” from other men. Where they can stop dumping the full weight of their inner world on their wives.
Because here’s the truth: men in peer groups become better husbands. They become better fathers. Better sons. Better brothers. When a man is part of a peer group, he learns to talk—actually talk. He learns to listen. He learns to sit with pain without fixing it. He learns intimacy, not the kind that happens in the bedroom, but the kind that builds everything that happens outside it.
I’ve seen it happen many times. A man who used to shut down at the dinner table suddenly opens up. A man who used to simmer in silence finds words for his grief. A man who only had anger or apathy discovers he actually feels joy, or sorrow, or fear. And the women in their lives always say the same thing: “Thank you. Thank you for giving me back my husband. Thank you for giving me a partner who can finally meet me.”
Ladies, you’ve been carrying the burden long enough. You’ve been man-keeping, and it’s draining you. Stop raising a husband. Stop being the only one keeping his soul alive. Hand him off to the circle where he belongs.
And men—if you’re reading this, listen up. You don’t get a medal for toughing it out alone. You don’t earn points for making your wife your only confidante. That’s not strength—that’s cowardice dressed up as independence. Real strength is walking into a room full of men and daring to tell the truth. Real courage is showing up for yourself, your brothers, your wife, and your family by doing the work in a peer group.
You want a better marriage? Join a peer group.
You want a better retirement? Join a peer group.
You want authentic, deep, and lasting friendships? Join a peer group.
Because man-keeping is killing intimacy, killing masculinity, and even killing men.
Men’s Peer Groups are the antidote.
So women of the world—if you’re tired of carrying him, if you’re exhausted from being his everything, you’re not alone. And you’re not crazy. Get him into a peer group. He needs it. You need it. And your marriage damn well deserves it.
