I think this is one of the biggest distinctions that men need to process; our bodies privilege us to be stronger on average than our distaff counterparts. So many men get caught up on the protector role that they forget what protection even is. You are not their prison Warden, you are their rock. You enable your partner, your child, your friend to come out of their shell and not fear they will be hurt for pursuing their dreams and using their gifts. Strong nations have many different kinds of people, protected by laws and guardians who ensure the law is carried out. Weak countries have little variety, and are unable to use large swaths of their populations' talents because those people are oppressed by "strong" men or otherwise disincentivised from even trying. They then wither and die, because no guardians came out and protected those who were physically weaker.
Wow, thank you for such a fantastic and insightful comment!
I'm glad you liked it. I especially love your example of the 'prison Warden vs. rock' distinction – that captures the heart of it perfectly!
I would add that in today's world physical strength is part of a larger whole. Strength comes in many forms, and sometimes the most effective are the ones I highlighted above: restraint, trust, presence.
It's knowing when to help someone and let them fly on their own.
Making a stand for those whose voices aren't heard, but also letting them speak when they are ready and happily step aside.
It's a dance and it requires practice, which is why in my view masculinity is a practice, not a definition.
Truly appreciate you adding depth to the conversation!
Are we ever going to address how women (mothers) control instead of protect? My dad did his best to be a protector; my mother was more concerned with control. I don't think it's necessarily men who need to learn this.
Thank you for sharing your experience—it’s deeply personal, and I want to acknowledge the hurt behind your words. It takes courage to speak from that kind of place, and I hear you.
There’s no doubt that wounding can come from any parent, regardless of gender. Control disguised as protection can leave deep scars, and I’m truly sorry that was part of your story. You're absolutely right—both men and women can fall into that trap.
That said, the intention of this piece wasn’t to point fingers at men, but rather to invite men—because that’s the lane I’m walking in—along with everyone else to reflect on how we sometimes confuse control with care. Not because men are uniquely guilty, but because each of us is uniquely responsible for the change we can make within ourselves.
We can’t fix others, but we can break cycles. We can choose to be the kind of people who don’t smother, the kind who serve, and the kind who aren’t afraid to lay our shields down when they become cages.
Your story matters. And if anything, I hope this conversation reminds us that healing isn’t about blame—it’s about becoming. And that journey belongs to all of us.
Thanks again for taking the time to respond. I want to take a moment and say that in no way am I invalidating your experience, or saying that anyone is above reproach.
To be clear: Controlling behavior is harmful, period, no matter who does it. No one is beyond criticism. My specific project often centers on the scripts given to men because that's the lens I'm working through personally, but the underlying issue of control vs. genuine care is universal.
The only thing we can control is our own actions, and our responses to outside events. This project is learning about what we can do to become better people, one step at a time.
The goal isn't assigning blame to one group but understanding and changing harmful patterns wherever they appear. Appreciate you keeping the conversation nuanced.
I think this is one of the biggest distinctions that men need to process; our bodies privilege us to be stronger on average than our distaff counterparts. So many men get caught up on the protector role that they forget what protection even is. You are not their prison Warden, you are their rock. You enable your partner, your child, your friend to come out of their shell and not fear they will be hurt for pursuing their dreams and using their gifts. Strong nations have many different kinds of people, protected by laws and guardians who ensure the law is carried out. Weak countries have little variety, and are unable to use large swaths of their populations' talents because those people are oppressed by "strong" men or otherwise disincentivised from even trying. They then wither and die, because no guardians came out and protected those who were physically weaker.
Wow, thank you for such a fantastic and insightful comment!
I'm glad you liked it. I especially love your example of the 'prison Warden vs. rock' distinction – that captures the heart of it perfectly!
I would add that in today's world physical strength is part of a larger whole. Strength comes in many forms, and sometimes the most effective are the ones I highlighted above: restraint, trust, presence.
It's knowing when to help someone and let them fly on their own.
Making a stand for those whose voices aren't heard, but also letting them speak when they are ready and happily step aside.
It's a dance and it requires practice, which is why in my view masculinity is a practice, not a definition.
Truly appreciate you adding depth to the conversation!
Are we ever going to address how women (mothers) control instead of protect? My dad did his best to be a protector; my mother was more concerned with control. I don't think it's necessarily men who need to learn this.
Thank you for sharing your experience—it’s deeply personal, and I want to acknowledge the hurt behind your words. It takes courage to speak from that kind of place, and I hear you.
There’s no doubt that wounding can come from any parent, regardless of gender. Control disguised as protection can leave deep scars, and I’m truly sorry that was part of your story. You're absolutely right—both men and women can fall into that trap.
That said, the intention of this piece wasn’t to point fingers at men, but rather to invite men—because that’s the lane I’m walking in—along with everyone else to reflect on how we sometimes confuse control with care. Not because men are uniquely guilty, but because each of us is uniquely responsible for the change we can make within ourselves.
We can’t fix others, but we can break cycles. We can choose to be the kind of people who don’t smother, the kind who serve, and the kind who aren’t afraid to lay our shields down when they become cages.
Your story matters. And if anything, I hope this conversation reminds us that healing isn’t about blame—it’s about becoming. And that journey belongs to all of us.
It seems like you think men are uniquely guilty - or perhaps more precisely, that women do this too, but they're beyond criticism.
Hey James,
Thanks again for taking the time to respond. I want to take a moment and say that in no way am I invalidating your experience, or saying that anyone is above reproach.
To be clear: Controlling behavior is harmful, period, no matter who does it. No one is beyond criticism. My specific project often centers on the scripts given to men because that's the lens I'm working through personally, but the underlying issue of control vs. genuine care is universal.
The only thing we can control is our own actions, and our responses to outside events. This project is learning about what we can do to become better people, one step at a time.
The goal isn't assigning blame to one group but understanding and changing harmful patterns wherever they appear. Appreciate you keeping the conversation nuanced.
You have definitely assigned blame to men in your writing.