I’m a Bunnings fanboy.
(*Australia’s biggest DIY chain, for my legions of overseas readers).
I love the smell of the place — a subtle blend of new rubber and sawdust.
I love how the humongous aisles make you feel like a tiny child again.
I love browsing galvanized screws because I secretly like the colour.
But glance at my satiny, soft copywriter hands and the charade is over.
I’m a tourist in this world.
Sure, I can put a screw into a wall.
But build a wall? Nah. Not even with all the YouTube instructional videos in the galaxy. Unless it was made of Lego, even then, I’d be pushing my limits.
Recently, however, I’ve learnt to build something useful, solid and very, very manly.
Boundaries.
A boundary is the limit a person establishes to define acceptable and unacceptable behavior in their interactions with others.
It’s essentially communicating what you will or won’t tolerate in life. And it’s a skill so vital, the Boundary song is now being sung in Kindergartens across the nation. A song that certainly wasn’t echoing down the halls of my Scottish day care, 40 years ago.
And so, for most of my time on this giant spinning rock, I thought a boundary was something you found on a cricket pitch — not a core life skill of 21st century humanhood.
And I suffered for it.
And I made others suffer for it.
Because when you don’t know what boundaries, let alone know how to set them, you let others trample on things that matter to you, without them knowing they’re doing it.
Which make you, and by that I mean me, grow quietly resentful, passive-aggressive, and emotionally colder than a witch’s ariola.
Maybe I did have a vague sense of what a boundary was. Maybe it was that my stiff British upper lip, told me it was rude to be that direct about my needs and limits.
I’m not sure.
But I do know my failure to build boundaries meant I regularly moved through the world with an anvil on my chest.
Bunnings doesn’t sell supplies to build boundaries.
Because you don’t need any.
You just need a set of words and a pair of lips to say them.
Like, if it’s really important for me to go to Bunnings that day and someone wants to do something else. I just let them know.
And poof there it is. A beautiful, fresh built boundary.
A boundary that keeps others informed and the worst passive-aggressive version of me out.
A marvel of modern manhood.
That I proudly built.
It’s just a shame, I couldn’t use those sexy galvanised screws I bought.
FAQs – About The Good Men Project
What is The Good Men Project?
The Good Men Project is a mission-driven media platform founded in 2010 that explores modern masculinity, men’s mental health, relationships, fatherhood, identity, and social change through personal stories, expert insights, and cultural analysis.
What is The Good Men Project’s mission?
Our mission is to expand the conversation about what it means to be a good man in the 21st century — in ways that are inclusive, emotionally honest, and grounded in real human experience.
Why does The Good Men Project focus on masculinity?
Because masculinity shapes how men show up in relationships, families, workplaces, and communities. Examining it thoughtfully helps reduce harm, challenge stereotypes, and create healthier outcomes for everyone.
Is The Good Men Project inclusive?
Yes. GMP is committed to inclusive, progressive perspectives that challenge sexism, racism, homophobia, and narrow gender roles. We believe expanding masculinity benefits people of all genders.
How long has The Good Men Project been around?
The Good Men Project was founded in 2010 and has published continuously for over 15 years, making it one of the longest-running platforms dedicated to modern masculinity and men’s issues.
—
iStock image
