Suppressing Emotions: The Silent Trauma of Albanian Men

In Albanian culture, strength is often measured by how much pain a man can endure without showing it. From a young age, boys are told “Mos qaj, burrat nuk qajnë” (Don’t cry, men don’t cry). They learn that vulnerability is a weakness, that emotions should be buried, and that their worth is tied to their ability to endure hardship in silence. But what happens when pain has nowhere to go? It doesn’t disappear—it turns into something else.

The Cost of Emotional Suppression

Generations of Albanian men have carried unspoken grief, fear, and anger. Many grew up with fathers who had survived war, dictatorship, and economic hardship, yet rarely spoke of their struggles. They learned that real men suffer in silence. But this emotional suppression doesn’t make pain go away; it makes it harder to process. Research shows that men who suppress emotions are at higher risk for anxiety, depression, heart disease, and substance use. It also affects relationships—when emotions aren’t expressed, they often surface as anger, emotional distance, or even physical symptoms like chronic stress and fatigue.

Why This Cycle Continues

In our community, many men still feel pressure to be the “strong one” in their families. They are expected to provide, protect, and problem-solve—but not to feel. Many fear that opening up will make them seem weak or that their struggles will burden others. Instead of processing pain, they cope through avoidance, workaholism, alcohol, or emotional withdrawal. Over time, this silent suffering takes a toll, leading to disconnection from loved ones and even from themselves.

Breaking the Silence

Healing starts with challenging the idea that emotions make a man weak. Strength is not in how much pain you can suppress but in how willing you are to face it. Talking about emotions—whether with a friend, a therapist, or even through journaling—is not a sign of failure; it’s a step toward freedom.

We need to create spaces where Albanian men feel safe to express their struggles without fear of judgment. That starts with small changes—choosing to be honest about stress, admitting when things feel overwhelming, or checking in on a friend beyond the usual “Si je?” and actually listening to the answer.

Our fathers and grandfathers didn’t always have this opportunity. But we do. The more we normalize emotional expression, the less our sons will have to carry in silence.

It's time to redefine strength—not as the ability to endure suffering alone, but as the courage to heal.