What I Thought a Man Was

For a long time, I thought being a man was mostly about becoming harder.

Harder to hurt. Harder to disappoint. Harder to shake.

I thought a man was supposed to know what he was doing, have an answer ready, keep his problems to himself, and never let anyone see him uncertain.

Maybe that's why so many definitions of manhood feel like a list of things you're not allowed to be.

Don't be afraid. Don't be too sensitive. Don't need anyone. Don't cry. Don't hesitate. Don't lose.

But the older I get, the less convincing that definition feels.

I don't think strength means not being affected.

Some things will hurt.

Some people will leave. Some plans won't work. Some days you'll question yourself. There will be moments when confidence disappears and you're left with nothing but uncertainty.

I don't think the answer is to become someone who doesn't feel those things.

Maybe strength is feeling them without letting them decide who you become.

You can be hurt and still be kind. You can be afraid and still move forward. You can be uncertain and still make a decision.

That feels more like strength to me than pretending nothing matters.

I don't think a man has to have everything figured out.

There is something strange about the expectation that adulthood should arrive with certainty.

As if one day you are supposed to wake up and suddenly know what you're doing with your life.

I don't think that's how it works.

Maybe being a man is partly accepting that you will always be learning.

Learning how to speak. How to listen. How to leave. How to stay. How to apologize. How to say no. How to admit when you're wrong.

Not knowing isn't failure.

Refusing to learn is.

On Becoming →

I don't think independence means needing nobody.

There is a difference between being dependent on someone and allowing people to matter to you.

We need people.

Not because we're incapable of standing alone, but because a life completely untouched by other people would be a strangely empty one.

Letting someone help you doesn't make you smaller.

Loving someone doesn't make you weak.

Caring gives people the ability to hurt you. That's true.

But it also gives life some of its meaning.

I think responsibility is a bigger part of manhood than confidence.

Confidence is easy when everything is going your way.

Responsibility matters when it isn't.

Doing what needs to be done when you don't feel like doing it.

Keeping your word.

Owning your mistakes without constructing an excuse around them.

Taking care of what has been placed in your hands.

Not because anyone is watching.

Because it is yours to carry.

And maybe becoming a man is less about becoming harder and more about becoming steadier.

Steady enough to not react to everything.

Steady enough to walk away when staying would cost your peace.

Steady enough to stay when something is worth fighting for.

Steady enough to say "I was wrong."

Steady enough to say "I need help."

Steady enough to love without losing yourself.

Steady enough to lose without losing yourself.

I don't think there is one definition of a man.

Maybe there never was.

But if I had to write one now, it wouldn't be about how much you can lift, how little you can feel, how many things you can control, or how intimidating you can appear.

It would be simpler than that.

Be someone whose presence makes life a little safer, whose word means something, and who can look honestly at himself without needing to pretend.

Maybe that's enough.

Maybe that's the work.

Not becoming harder.

Becoming steadier.