[00:00:00] Marie: Hello and welcome back to another episode of This Complex Life. Today I have a special guest with me, Shannon. I came across Shannon through his work as an author and his book, “You Made Me This Way.” I’m just going to let him introduce himself. Welcome, Shannon.

[00:00:21] Shannon: Thanks for having me.

[00:00:24] Marie: Your book, I absolutely loved it. But I just want to rewind a bit and can you share with the audience a little bit about who you are and what you’re doing?

[00:00:33] Shannon: I’m a journalist by trade. I’ve been working for almost 20 years now, which is terrifying to say out loud. I’ve worked in general news, had a wonderful stint as a celebrity feature writer, and written about business, finance, politics. I even spent a very brief time as a political staffer earlier in my career, but then saw the light and came back to the good side. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. One of my favourite toys as a kid was an old black and red typewriter my mum bought me from a flea market when I was five. I started writing a little neighbourhood newspaper on it called the Arthur Street Chronicle, which I delivered to the 20 people that lived on our street in a small town in regional Queensland. I’ve always known what I wanted to be, but I couldn’t have possibly predicted that I would write a book, let alone two books, and have the privilege of talking about my story with people such as yourself. It’s crazy.

[00:01:51] Marie: Yeah, it’s quite a journey. I love that you had a community newspaper. That’s gorgeous.

[00:01:56] Shannon: It was dorky, but that’s how I chose to spend my afternoons as a little boy – clacking away on a typewriter, then going up to the news agent and convincing them to let me photocopy it for free and shoving it in people’s mailboxes. It was great.

[00:02:10] Marie: That’s so lovely. Most of your career is around capturing stories and writing pieces of information. Often when I listen to some journalists talk about how they work behind the scenes, they seem to pull out a lot of the same sort of stuff that therapists do – really being curious and open-minded and pulling out lots of questions. How did you go from that to sharing your own story in this book?

[00:02:36] Shannon: Reluctantly, I have to say. The personal stuff in “You Made Me This Way” – before I started writing this book, I had said things out loud to fewer people than I can count on one hand. It’s something I never thought I’d talk about publicly. It’s something I certainly thought about essentially every day, but pushed deep down inside of me, hid away, and was terrified to confront. The experience of writing my first book, which was a memoir about growing up gay in regional Queensland in the late 90s, was also a very challenging experience, but something I’ve been much more open about. I was in a better place about that trauma. The positive reaction to that from thousands of people – people who looked and felt just like me, young people now who are struggling, parents, teachers, people who had no connection to the book at all but saw something in it – that overwhelmingly generous response was a little bit addictive. So when I landed on the topic of my second book, which was about child sexual abuse, particularly the experiences of men who were abused as boys, I was a little bit more brave to insert myself in that story. But again, when I sat down to start writing it, I told my psychiatrist, my husband, my mum a little bit, and a fellow who ended up helping me with the book. It was very raw and uncomfortable. But most good things are challenging, and there were so many positives that came out of it at the end of the day.

[00:03:59] Marie: I think it’s remarkable to share your story in that way. I try really hard to listen to a lot of autobiographical accounts of people’s lived experiences. There’s the overly medicalized model, which I initially got trained in, and tried to navigate that system while also seeing what the real-world impact is for people. Books like yours highlight some of that and make it stop being a statistic and start being about real people.

[00:04:32] Shannon: Thank you. That’s very kind. Something I noticed early on in my career was the power of storytelling. Most people have this sense that they don’t have a story or anything interesting or important to say. I’ve interviewed thousands of people over the past two decades, and I am yet to encounter someone who doesn’t have a story. When you put the humanity back into a topic like child sexual abuse or mental health, you bring the community along with you, and that’s when you can affect real change. If we just think of these things as abstract that don’t affect us, then nothing gets done. That’s been the problem with child abuse particularly – it’s such an ugly topic that we’ve chosen until relatively recently to ignore it. It was only when we started to put actual human faces on this issue that people were stopped in their tracks and thought, “Oh no, we can’t tolerate this; we need to do something.” That’s thanks to people being brave and gracious enough to share their own stories.

[00:06:00] Marie: What impact do you hope that sharing these stories has with listeners or readers? I listened to it as an audiobook, but what are you hoping particularly men who might be struggling with similar issues might take away from it?

[00:06:16] Shannon: The thing that really struck me, and I’ll answer this question by telling you how the book came about – this thing that I swore I would never do suddenly happened. It was through work. I got a pitch from a publicist about a relatively new awareness campaign around child abuse and violence against children called Polish Man. The notion is that a bunch of famous men paint one of their fingernails for a month, which prompts people to ask, “Why is Larry Emdur wearing a pink fingernail?” and it starts this conversation. People can sponsor you and choose the colour you paint your nail. Great idea, but unfortunately there are a million of these types of campaigns, and if I wrote about every single one of them, I wouldn’t be able to do the rest of my job. The sad thing is that no one reads those stories typically. I’m very blessed that I have a boss who still believes in the original intention of journalism, which is to tell important human stories that the community needs to know. Given my experience as a little boy, this one jumped out. So I said, “Yeah, I’ll do the story, but is there a case study who might be willing to talk to me? A man who might be willing to put a human face on this because otherwise no one’s going to click on it.” And that’s how I met this incredible guy called Jared Grice. He’s a very well-known advocate for child sexual abuse and male adult survivors. It was meant to be a 20-minute interview after work one day in the middle of winter, but it was close to two hours. We were sitting there talking, and I felt like my chest was torn open by how vulnerable he was, how candid he was, but also resilient and strong, talking about this long and difficult road he’s walked down. At the end of it, I said, which is totally out of character for me, “I know what you’re talking about. Something like this happened to me.” He stopped in his tracks and said, “If you ever want to talk, let me know, we’ll go for a beer or something.” I took him up on it, and that began this slow unraveling of decades of trauma I wasn’t addressing. That conversation literally saved my life. The more I spoke to him, the more I looked into the topic, the more I realised I’m not unique. In this case, I’m not unique as a man in his late thirties who has never spoken about this horrible thing that happened 30 years ago, and he’s slowly destroying himself trying to cope with it. He’ll go to the grave, having never told anyone, including the people closest to him. There’s a significantly increased likelihood that he will die early from ill health, abuse issues, or suicide. That enraged me. There are so many men walking around with this enormous burden on their shoulders, and they feel like they can never tell anyone. There’s a real injustice in that. The inspiration for the book came from wanting to help men realise they are not alone.

[00:10:22] Marie: I really think it does that. I mean, I’m certainly not a bloke, so I’m not talking from that experience, but how you talk about it – it’s not just your story, you document other people throughout the book who have overlapping themes. What I really love about it is you find a beautiful way to integrate some theoretical psychobabble mental health stuff and signs of trauma with what that looks like day to day. How that can catch you off guard, how that can activate or trigger you, how that can lead to isolation or loneliness. You give people a language to describe an experience they may not have made the link to, or they might feel completely at fault, rather than understanding how that makes sense considering what they’ve been through.

[00:11:00] Shannon: You’re not broken. You’re not a deviant or in some way defective. This is a scientific reaction to the most unspeakable hurt inflicted on you as a child. This isn’t your fault. The title says, “You made me this way.” I’ve had to be careful to not let that be a kind of get-out-of-jail-free card. If I’m being an arsehole to my husband, it might be my anxiety rooted in all of this stuff. But how I choose to cope with that and how I continue my healing journey is on me. Kids are generally on the same path in life, and a range of environmental factors determine where they go. The most disruptive one of all is being plucked from that path and put in the most unspeakable circumstances. Of course, sitting there beating yourself up about something you couldn’t possibly help is hard. This is a relatively recent discovery for me too, and I still have epiphanies that make me think, “Why didn’t I see that?” That’s why I had these six very personal stories from male adult survivors woven with the science to show this isn’t an abstract theory. This is the psychological and physiological response to trauma.

[00:13:01] Marie: What surprised you most when researching the book? Like, is there anything that stopped you in your tracks when you made a link or a connection?

[00:13:12] Shannon: So many things. There’s a fellow, I won’t say his name because I can’t remember what pseudonym I gave him in the book. Let’s call him Steve. Steve, in his late thirties, relatively successful and well-adjusted, has always had a shocking track record of romance. He’s basically the epitome of “treat him mean, keep him keen.” If a guy is nice, he’s not interested. If he’s the world’s biggest arsehole, he’s totally head over heels. I could immediately see like, “Oh, I’m linking this back to a few things.” Anyway, he told me about the horrific things that happened to him in his very early adolescence and what that has resulted in over the past 25 odd years. He was talking about his journey in therapy and how he loved going to therapy and had a great rapport with this therapist. He was there every week trying to figure out this love stuff. Then I said to him, “What does she say about the connection between this stuff and what happened to you when you were a kid?” He said, “Oh, I never told her.” I was like, “You’re in the care of a professional who you’ve been seeing for years, who you trust with everything in your heart, except for this thing?” Wow. He hadn’t told anyone else either. I was the first person he’d told. I got goosebumps just talking about it. As a storyteller, that’s incredible. As a human, it’s devastating. I don’t deserve that privilege of being let in on such a monumentous thing. That’s the norm in a lot of cases. The Royal Commission into institutionalised responses to institutionalised abuse put figures on it. The average time it takes survivors to disclose is 24 years for women and 32 or 34 years for men. About a decade longer for men to be in a place to finally tell someone. The bigger realisation that came out of that is how terrible men are at looking after themselves. They’re so bad at asking for help or recognising when they need help. It’s tragic. The raw data on suicides – three times as many men, many more attempts – just awful. Significantly less likely to ever seek support for a mental health issue. I started to think about what other things men are struggling with and walking around with, never saying anything. There’s so much work to do. We have spent hundreds of millions of dollars and 15 years talking about ending the stigma, and it’s okay to not be okay, and are you okay? But if you’ve ever tried to get help, how long has it taken you to find it and what did it cost? Was it in your town or suburb, or did you have to go who knows where to get it? I don’t know if many men feel comfortable walking into a ritzy medical practice in Surry Hills or Toorak and sitting on an $8,000 leather couch talking about their feelings for 50 minutes. That’s just not for them. How do we reach those men before it’s too late? There are so many destructive and devastating things on that spectrum – substance abuse, alcoholism, domestic and family violence, issues with holding down employment, isolation, social exclusion, criminality. There are all these things that stem from poor mental health and wellbeing. That’s why men are so overrepresented in those areas.

[00:17:59] Marie: What do you think stops them from taking care of themselves or reaching out for help?

[00:18:06] Shannon: I’m going to say two words that have become so weaponised: toxic masculinity. I’m so angry that that phrase is as “ick” as it is. It’s such an “ick” phrase because it has been weaponised by all facets of the ideological scale and become really political. It’s now on the same par as “woke.” The horrible irony is that the birth of the phrase toxic masculinity in a mental health setting was a description of the unique experience of being a modern male. It’s broadly accepted that there are many traits of masculinity that are positive and useful and contribute to society – heroism, stoicism, providing, being strong. We want firefighters who are strong and brave. We want fathers who are protective. That’s great. But the toxic masculinity notion came about when it was observed that for many men, they can only be that. There is no room in their imagination to be anything other than entirely stoic, always brave, never weak. That’s not an accident. That’s a result of societal pressures in the West in particular. In Nepal, men embrace and hold hands walking through the streets. They’re very emotive and open and connected with other men and the broader community. That would never happen here. I’m gay and I won’t hold my husband’s hand in Sydney in public because it’s terrifying. There’s a real resistance to being open and vulnerable. That’s where this idea of toxic masculinity comes from. Men feel like it’s not okay to not be okay, that they can’t be weak and vulnerable, and they have to always be strong. The reality is that it’s exhausting. It’s like running your car 24 hours a day without stopping it ever, and then wondering why the engine blows up. No one would run a car like that, but that’s how men run themselves. We’ve told them it’s okay, and there have been some great awareness campaigns that have helped a little. But I was watching a video today from a men’s mental health charity that goes into these bloke spaces and does things that are challenging and require bravery but are done in ways that are a little more palatable to men. They stand in a line, close their eyes, and are told to step forward if they struggle with anxiety, step forward again if they’re still struggling with it now, step forward if they’ve never told anyone, step forward if they’re terrified of anyone ever knowing. Their eyes are all closed, but this is a line full of guys that you would look at and think, “Oh, he’s really tough.” Tattooed, mulleted, young tradie, with tears coming to his eyes, standing at the very front, terrified anyone will ever know he’s struggling. It’s really sad. I think there’s still so much work to do. We’ve told them it’s okay to not be okay, but now the gap is in, “Okay, well, then what?” I love “Are You Okay” Day, and they do some great work beyond just the awareness. But then the question is always, “What happens if they’re not okay? What do you do?” Find a therapist in nine months who can fit you in or whatever the case may be. It’s a really tough experience for men who aren’t coping.

[00:22:51] Marie: Yeah, when you summarise it like that, it can feel really overwhelming. I’ve worked with some people, and it can take a few years to feel like you’re navigating or understanding how all those pieces fit together. If it was a physical injury, we would have more empathy. If someone was in a cycling accident or fell off a mountain, they would understand that they might need physio or chiropractic help and might never return to full functioning, but they can have a good level of functioning. Mental health and mental illness are so highly stigmatised. There’s one bit you mention a lot in your book, sometimes explicitly, but it’s a theme I pulled out – shame being a really big part. That seems to be maybe a little bit bigger when I hear stories of men being abused by other men. They don’t even talk about it sometimes. Part of where masculinity can really affect men as well is they don’t see abuse by older women as abuse. There’s this narrative of “good on you,” but there seems to be an extra level of shame attached to that.

[00:24:05] Shannon: So many of the men I spoke to – six feature in the book, but I spoke to more than a dozen in total. Some never wanted to be in the book but wanted to talk to me about their observations for context, which was really useful. A couple agreed and then pulled out later on, which is 100 percent fine. A couple of others, for whatever reason, didn’t make it. Of the heterosexual men who were abused by men, and overwhelmingly the perpetrators are male, all had huge hangups about their identity. They didn’t consider themselves anything but heterosexual, not even a little bit bi. They were fine with that, but it’s hard to talk about without it being uncomfortable. When a man or boy is in a situation, even if they don’t want to be there, there are certain physical reactions that may indicate they are enjoying it or do want to be there. That’s just the body, unfortunately. They take that and use it as an indication of something about themselves for years after. As a heterosexual man, I can imagine how hard it must be to think about that. What does that mean for me? Am I still enough of a man? So that’s a huge part of it. Also, some men in certain circles, where there is perhaps a bit of judgment against men who aren’t heterosexual, wouldn’t ever say anything because then their mates are going to think, “Oh my God, another bloke did something to him.” There are so many layers to it, but shame is at the root of it. Shame is like a cancer that slowly infects your body, and the longer you leave it, the worse it is.

[00:27:00] Marie: You’ve mentioned all these different barriers that exist, practically in the right support, emotionally, culturally. If you could leave listeners with a parting message for men who feel like they might need to hide parts of themselves, what would you say?

[00:27:15] Shannon: I’d say you don’t have to carry that burden alone. It’s okay to reach out for help. You’re not weak, and you’re not less of a man for acknowledging your struggles. Doing something small is better than doing nothing.

[00:27:32] Marie: I love that. It’s a beautiful message. Thank you so much for putting your work out there. I can only imagine how scary and confronting it must have been, not just the nature of the topic, but vulnerably sharing parts of yourself for people who know you and people who don’t. That’s really brave and courageous.

[00:27:55] Shannon: My pleasure.

[00:27:57] Marie: People can find your book wherever they get books – bookstores, library, Audible, wherever good books are sold.