How men’s mental health organisation He. is helping Kiwi men open up


Most of all, it was extremely powerful. Many of the men listening intently were visibly moved and the standing ovation was as long as it was impassioned. One of League’s toughest, most intimidating characters had not only bared his vulnerabilities with them, but, by doing so, had given them permission to go and share theirs.
Off to the side of the makeshift stage, where Packer stood, Cass Hogan watched on like a proud mum. In many ways, she was. Hogan is the founder of He., an event she created to shine a light on men’s mental health, with the belief that if men could hear other men speak openly about their personal struggles in a comfortable and relaxed environment, the message would resonate in a way that encouraged them to seek help. The energy in the room suggested she was right.
“It was quite overwhelming,” she reflects. “I didn’t sleep that night. After an event, it takes me a good two to three weeks to come back down to earth, not necessarily from a high; it’s just a lot. There’s so much emotion going up and down.”
Hogan, whose background is in psychology – “I’ve always been interested in how the brain works” – and she is a life and business coach.

She put on the first He. event at Mount Maunganui’s Surf Lifesaving Club in 2023 after seeing what she describes as “big holes in mental health”, especially for men.
“I was coaching women, predominantly, and a lot of the time they’d say that their partner, or dad, or son was struggling and they didn’t know what to do. I started looking into the kinds of support there was for men, and discovered there’s not much at all. I knew women had done events like this before, but there was nothing for men where they could all come together and listen to actual, real lived experiences.”
The need wasn’t merely anecdotal. In Aotearoa, three of every four suicides are men and it is the leading cause of death for men under 35, according to The Real Face of Men’s Health in New Zealand 2025 report by global charity Movember.
“I had a really good group of guy mates at school, who I’m still friends with now, and one of those guys was an incredible person,” she smiles.
“He was somebody that you would never, ever expect to have depression. He was always smiling, always happy, and made people feel really good around him. When I moved to Australia, he reached out. He was living in the same town and was like, ‘Let’s catch up’. I said, ‘Yep, cool!’”
Her smile fades.
“The next day on Facebook, I saw all these rest in peace messages. I was confused and didn’t know what was going on. He had committed suicide. I was absolutely shocked. I was like, ‘It can’t be him.’ It really affected me for a long time.”
“I was just about one of the statistics we hear about of blokes taking their own lives,” says Craig Bulloch. “Luckily, I was saved.”
Bulloch is the co-founder of Mates Matter, a Hamilton-based organisation dedicated to providing the Waikato region with mental wellness and suicide prevention programmes and resources. So, when He. Expanded into Waikato, Mates Matter was a natural partner to join forces with.
Both share the belief that cultural pressure to be fiercely independent and unwaveringly strong also discourages emotions such as sadness, shame, guilt or anxiety. Instead, they bottle it up and put on a brave face, assuming they are the odd one out for struggling with a work issue or relational breakdown, unaware that men around them may be bottling up the very same fears. This silent isolation is something Bulloch knows about first-hand.
“I’d hit rock bottom. I had a business going under, my relationship broke up, and my pet died. In isolation, they’re things that you can get through, but they all came at a similar time and just piled up. I didn’t speak to anyone about them. And that’s what really broke me.”
He credits his recovery to running, which he started after hearing former All Black John Kirwan speak about using physical activity to help his mental health.
“I bought a pair of shoes and went for a run, which nearly killed me,” he jokes. “But by the time I got home, the endorphins had kicked in.”

This led to fundraising and eventually an Ironman triathlon, which gave him back purpose. Bulloch also got counselling and learnt self-awareness of his own triggers. Most importantly, rather than bottling things up like before, he began talking to his mates about what was really going on .
“We need to be able to reach out for help and have buddies around us that we can lean into and say, ‘Dude, I’m not okay. Can we have a chat?’. We need to be able to create places where men can connect, because that’s what we’re missing. Females are fantastic at it. They get together, they chat, they go deep. We don’t.”
That’s what he’s trying to do with Mates Matter, to break down barriers, get people together, connecting, chatting and opening up.
“It’s showing people that their vulnerability is a superpower. I’d much rather hear someone that I work shoulder-to-shoulder with talking about their struggles than JK, who is a wonderful human being, or Mike King, because they’re up on that pedestal. They’re the leaders in the space. It’s the people next to me that I can relate to more. I can see myself in those stories. What Cass is doing with He. is very similar to that.”
Hogan agrees that He. has resonated, because it platforms men who may not be polished, professional speakers but have raw, relatable stories to share. While Packer is famous, he shared the stage that night with three local men who had all faced their own mental health battles.
“The best speakers that we have at these events are people who’ve never told their story before, but now they’re ready. They’ve done their healing,” she says. “The high-profile celebrities are great, but it’s the everyday New Zealanders who are the most impactful. It’s the warmth and their vulnerability that connect with the audience. When you actually give men a safe space to share their story, it’s incredible. I had no idea how impactful it was going to be.”
When planning the “one-off” event at the surf club, Hogan never expected it would grow into something more, but venues and crowds have only got bigger as she taps into what people need.
“It wasn’t ever something that I had this massive vision for; it’s just grown naturally. All of these events, I’ve done out of my own pocket, the first one I lost money on, but it’s never been about that for me. I’ve always had that motivation of wanting to help as many people as I can, even if it’s just helping one person from an event – which I know I have – that’s my motivation.”
When women started asking for an event, they launched She. and expanded into regions such as Hamilton and Christchurch.
There are also specialised events in the pipeline for groups such as women in the construction industry, farmers and couples.
It’s come a long way since Hogan was paying out of pocket to host events. Today, event profits are donated to various mental health charities. The long-term goal? Turning He. into a charity that could fund 12 weeks of ongoing support for men, whether that’s therapy, a men’s group, or coaching.

“One of the biggest things that I’ve been seeing is that it’s really hard for a man to tell somebody their story. There’s a huge block physically and mentally,” Hogan explains. “The engagement from men watching men talk about their experience is like nothing else. They’re so supportive. There’s so much love and so much mana in the room. It’s incredibly powerful.”
Despite the heavy conversation, the clouds begin to part, and Hogan smiles and says, “I’m so proud of them. The men who speak are encouraging men to ask for help, to realise they’re not alone, and to see that other men have been through the same dark places and come out the other side.”
“Those men who stand up and talk are absolute legends,” she adds. “Because they’re saving other people’s lives.”