Trauma compounds trauma. But for years, my mental distress—characterised by self-harm, suicidal ideation, issues with drugs and alcohol, severe depression and anxiety and an episode of psychosis—was seen by professionals as a purely medical issue, not a social or relational one. It was certainly never seen as gendered.

Each time I experienced another adverse life event, the more complex my trauma became and, the more difficult it was to find appropriate support for my mental health. This led to further distress as services failed to appropriately deal with the complexity of trauma and embedded it even further, as the findings from the present study also reflect [3].

In one particularly aggravating set of notes from a crisis team psychiatrist, it was suggested a sexual assault by an ex-boyfriend was not only my fault but a symptom in and of itself. The problem was that I had ‘put myself at risk’, not what had happened; that was beside the point and barely mentioned (see: [2]). A trauma-informed response, accessed at a far earlier point, would have made all the difference to me (see: [1]).

As this study’s authors suggest, taking a universal approach to trauma and adversity is key, building it directly into care. Giving voice to traumatic experiences—and, crucially, being listened and appropriately responded to—can be a hugely important step towards recovery, as can the acknowledgement of those gendered factors that have shaped the trauma itself.

Arguments about men and women’s mental health can often lead to somewhat of a stand-off, battles over whose pain is more worthy of attention. This misses the point: an acknowledgement of the gendered textures of multiple adversity is just as important for men experiencing mental distress as it is for women. Our life paths may not always be the same, but we all deserve the same thoughtful, person-centred care.