I’m not much of a man. Through the eyes of patriarchal society, anyway. I don’t watch or play sports. I’m not considered strong or overly fit. I haven’t got the machismo. I don’t really like beer or action movies. I’m not handy with tools. I’m not aggressive and I won’t fight. I see women and gender diverse people as my equals.
I was lucky to have grown up around strong, independent women of multiple generations. They taught me respect, but it was always a given. I don’t recall ever thinking I was better than girls, or that gender differences mattered. But that’s just my experience, and it’s a rare one, apparently.
I don’t have many “bros” — guy pals. Most of my friends aren’t men. Many of them are queer (I like to say I’m the “token straight”). I love dancing to upbeat pop by women artists — Lorde, Charli, Lana, Florence, Carly Rae. I enjoy musicals and theatre. I’m quite heterosexual and cisgender, but sometimes mistaken for gay. While there’s nothing wrong with being gay, I don’t want to give the wrong impression and pretend to be something I’m not. I’ll gladly joke about it, but I want to stay in my lane. I have shared interests (“girly” pop) with some gay culture, but I’m still an outsider.
Some might call me a “beta,” “soy boy,” or other terms I’d never use. But I know who I am, and actually, I prefer oat milk. I’ve learned to, in the words of Tay-Tay, shake it off.
When I was a young adult in the 2010s, feminism was mainstream, perhaps more than ever before. Justin Trudeau, then a popular leader, called himself a proud feminist. Campaigns like #YesAllWomen and #MeToo brought feminist issues to the centre of discussion.
Much of popular 2010s’ feminism was incomplete and performative. There was criticism that the embrace was a shallow buzzword lacking intersectional analysis of class and race. This is sometimes known as girlboss or white feminism. But it’s still preferable to 2026, in which gender equality issues are sidelined at best.
It’s not like we can pinpoint one exact reason for this social shift. I’m sure the election and re-election of a US president repeatedly accused and proud of committing sexual assault is a factor. So is the rise of the manosphere, online influencers who promote violent, hateful rhetoric against women and feminism. We live in a time of escalating crises and an increasingly divided, unequal, and chaotic world. In that surreal atmosphere, gender issues are pushed aside out of malice and ignorance.
One survey found Gen Z men actually have more oppressive views on gender roles than other generations, including Baby Boomers. I don’t know if young men are getting more misogynistic or if such a thing can be measured. Perhaps they’re just being more honest about it. Every individual is different, and people can learn and change.
Of course, toxic masculinity and the patriarchy get to me, despite my best efforts. I’ve always had an aversion to using products marketed “for women,” like shampoo or deodorant. Even though I know the chemicals will still work despite my gender identity, there’s something off about using it. I’m not comfortable wearing pink clothes, dresses, makeup, and other “feminine” accessories for similar reasons. There’s nothing wrong with being feminine, regardless of how you identify. I don’t take a ton of pride in signaling masculinity, but I still want society to remember I am, in fact, a man. That could be the problem.
To fellow men (primarily cisgender, heterosexual men as I can’t speak to the experiences of trans or gay men): why is it important you feel like a man? What does that mean to you? Have you ever really, deeply, thought about this? Have you considered how your identity is the dominant one in society that oppresses others? Is it even possible to reclaim and subvert that identity, at least as an individual? Whose acceptance do you want in the affirmation of your masculinity and why? I ask myself these questions, and I still struggle. Even as someone who’s more secure in myself, and aware of patriarchal issues and gender inequality than the average bear.
Look, I’m not saying it’s wrong to be a man. However, it’s wrong to be whiny, entitled, unstable, violent losers who refuse to give up any power.
You don’t need to “apologize on behalf of all men,” be “embarrassed for your gender” or become the Ambassador of Feminism.
I’m still not immune to the toxic elements of masculinity that come with existing as a man. A less “macho” man can be just as harmful and oppressive, perhaps without even knowing it. I like to think I’m not the type, and that my trusted friends would call me out, as they have in the past. I won’t go into specifics — we’ve all said and done careless things. Nobody is pure. As a man, I’m never going to really “get it” and I won’t pretend I’m a better feminist than anyone else, man or not. Sometimes, the best thing you can do as an ally is shut up and listen. You don’t need to “apologize on behalf of all men,” be “embarrassed for your gender” or become the Ambassador of Feminism. There are so many women who have it covered. It’s a whole academic field.
I don’t really believe in “healthy masculinity.” I can’t say I know the complexities of gender studies in depth, but it is a binary construct that positions masculinity as the opposite of femininity. I feel someone’s gender is the least interesting thing about them, and that we are more than our appearance to society. Is a “healthy masculinity” one that centres men’s experiences? Or is it simply being a good human, performing respect that comes from compassion as a person? The only non-toxic way to be masculine is to reject the binary division altogether.
There’s a lot of talk on the “crisis of masculinity,” how boys and men are feeling abandoned, and increasing gender divisions. People ask how we can find a “Joe Rogan of the left” and seek more positive role models for men. I think it’s important to meet boys and men where they are and teach them to be better people. But I do wonder if centring their gender identity, a thing mostly defined by its power and dominance over everyone else, is the way to fix these divisions.
Are you a real man? Well, do you identify as a man? You do? Great. You’re a man.
When I was younger, I worried about my masculinity. I wasn’t sure if I was being enough of a man, expressing my gender properly, or fulfilling my role in society. One of the best things I ever did in my life was realize it didn’t matter. People are more than their gender. The only way to secure and fulfill your masculinity is to kill the part of you that cares about it in the first place. Are you a real man? Well, do you identify as a man? You do? Great. You’re a man. Accept this, accept the masculinity that comes with that, and don’t worry about the rest.
