Kevan Gilbert finds strength through mental health journey
Encourages men to seek help and healing
At 23, Kevan Gilbert speaks with clarity shaped by his own experiences. As a public education and awareness officer at the National Council on Drug Abuse, he is committed to helping others understand the silent battles many men face. Before becoming an advocate, he was like many young Jamaican men, navigating manhood in a world that taught him to hide his hurt. This Men’s Health Month, which highlights both physical and mental well-being, Gilbert shares his journey of seeking help, finding healing, and challenging the unspoken rules of masculinity.
“I grew up in an inner-city community in St Catherine, raised by a single mother who later moved us to St Ann in my teenage years, where I matured into my adolescence,” Gilbert recalled. “Like many young Jamaican boys, I learned early that crying made you weak, and being vulnerable wasn’t acceptable.”
Gilbert’s upbringing and socialisation reflected what some would call the “unspoken rules” of masculinity in the Caribbean, rules that accepted male anger but rejected vulnerability. These expectations didn’t come from his household directly, but, as in many families, found their way in through the wider influences of Jamaican society. His mother worked hard to create a loving and supportive home, though at times even she struggled to navigate norms that were deeply embedded and hard to escape.
The result, Gilbert said, was a childhood largely devoid of emotional safety. “Growing up, there was no space to talk about how I felt mentally or emotionally. I had to create that space later in life by surrounding myself with emotionally mature friends,” he said. It wasn’t until adulthood that he began to shed the belief that seeking help made him less of a man.
A turning point came in 2019 on the morning of his 18th birthday, when he discovered that a close family member had passed away. The trauma stayed buried beneath the surface, until it caught up with him.
“I started university just days after, but I was numb. Everyone else around me was crying, and I was just angry,” he shared. The grief manifested quietly, chipping away at his academic performance and sense of self. It wasn’t until a university lecturer gently asked if he was okay that he admitted he wasn’t. That small question opened a door.
“She asked me what made me happy, and I told her I loved making others happy. She said, ‘But you can’t pour from an empty cup.’ And, that was the moment I knew I needed help,” he further explained.
Gilbert began therapy, something he had initially dismissed due to financial worries and a belief that it wouldn’t work. “I thought talking to someone wouldn’t help, but it did. Therapy helped me unpack emotions I didn’t even know I was carrying,” he said. It traced wounds back to childhood and helped him understand how years of emotional suppression had shaped him.
Now, the Red Stripe Flavour squad member copes differently. He permits himself to take mental health days, leans on friends, and prioritises rest. “Despite the expectation that we’re supposed to always be strong, I’ve had moments where I say, ‘I need protection too.’ And I honour that,” he said.
His personal growth, however, stands in contrast to a broader cultural silence. “Men’s mental health is still a taboo in Jamaica because very little is being done to destigmatise it. Support systems are almost non-existent,” Gilbert explained. “There are safe houses for women, support groups, and campaigns, but I’ve hardly ever seen anything tailored for men.”
He went on to highlight that many men refuse to seek help for issues like depression or even basic health screenings, “Some men are still afraid of going to the doctor, even for something like a prostate exam, because they think it makes them less of a man. That’s how deep the stigma runs.”
Gilbert has seen the toll first-hand. His relative’s passing was partly the result of unresolved mental struggles – a fact that still sits heavy on his heart. “It brought out a version of me I didn’t recognise,” he said. Yet, instead of letting it break him, he’s used it to fuel his purpose. If given five minutes with policymakers, he said he’d ask for support groups, safe spaces, and visible advocacy. “I just want more to be done to show men that they are seen, that their pain matters too,” he said.
To young boys and men who may be struggling in silence, Gilbert wants them to know: “You don’t have to be alone in your brokenness. Wanting help doesn’t make you weak. It makes you brave, and you can be the one to break the cycle.”


