
Recently I published an article about the toxic traits of masculinity. If you didn’t have the chance to read it you can catch up here.
In the article I talked about the “ugly” stuff, like the emphasis on physical strength, controlling behaviour or that men avoid non-sexual physical touch from other male friends from a very young age.
But is there anything wholesome about masculinity?
In the search for the “holy grail” of how to express masculinity in healthy ways, there is the tendency to slip back into the same mindset we try to avoid — that it is a prescriptive way to express healthy manhood.
If there is one thing I have learned is that masculinity is a spectrum and comes in many shapes and sizes, that we can even speak about masculinities.
Below are four traits that I’ve learned over the past years in my own journey of defining healthy manhood.
They are not necessarily exclusive about men, but I wanted to share them as they are not the “usual suspects” and are a good start for one’s journey of healthy masculinities. So here we go.
A shift of focus
As a result of transitioning from boyhood to manhood, I realised that life is less about me, my success or what I have or don’t.
The focus shifted from me to others. A boy is on the receiving end, as the world revolves around his needs. Now, that the boy became a man, he cares for others and their needs. Others are the priority.
I also learned that a man should be willing to empower others from disadvantaged or not, family members, friends to colleagues or even strangers.
Boundaries
It is healthy for a man (or woman) to be able to set boundaries in a thoughtful, but firm way either in a personal or professional setting. Having good boundaries and respecting others’ boundaries are good signs of maturity.
A “healthy” man respects others’ boundaries regardless of what “format” they come in.
Brené Brown’s research found that those who have “boundaries of steel” are the most compassionate, even more than those who tend to be available to help almost all the time.
Always being available can be an energy drain, a sign of desperation, and lead to moments of tension in choosing between different priorities.
Ownership
A mature man, or anyone, in fact, should own their decisions/actions regardless of the outcome, irrespective if one is in a position of leadership or not.
I avoided using the label “leadership” instead of ownership, because this could easily slip into the idea that a man is a “man” only if he leads.
Leadership comes in many styles and it’s an important trait, but there is a lot of hype around it so, for now, I prefer to focus on other aspects, such as …
Vulnerability
We, men, can struggle sometimes to be vulnerable with our families and close (male) friends.
Some of us believe that being vulnerable is to expose insecurities that will allow others to use them against us. Others might think that being vulnerable would simply embarrass us in front of others. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
What I’ve learnt is that being vulnerable doesn’t prevent connection, but actually encourages it. Of course, there will be some who would exploit our secrets and vulnerabilities, but again this would show if they would be in your life (or maybe not).
Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Brené Brown
For me, being vulnerable is more like sharing the “journey” with those who care to listen. This opens a door for them to connect with me and what I’m going through, the good or the bad. I also allow them to support me or I can share valuable lessons of what I’m learning through this experience.
I firmly believe it requires more strength and courage to share the journey with a good friend than avoiding it altogether.
To be vulnerable ultimately means showing my true self to those who are willing to access that part me. Doing a journey with good mates is essential and helps me to go a long way. I love the African proverb that says: if you want to go fast, go alone, but if you want to go far, go together.
I’ll leave you with a story from some years ago while I was living in Denmark. I was in my mid-twenties and a friend of mine and I were having a good hangout at a pub on a late autumn Friday night. I still remember that night vividly. This mate of mine was also a neighbour and as we left the pub in good spirits we were chatting away while cycling home.
When we reached the point our paths separated he looked at me and said: “you’re a good man”. It was a validation I was receiving from a friend, but I wasn’t ready to embrace it. I wasn’t happy to hear I was “a good man” (I haven’t told him that, of course). Instead, I wanted to hear that I am “strong”. Then, “good” meant “soft” to me.
I had to do some work on my views about what a man is, and what I have realised is that it’s not quite bad to be called a “good man”.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: christian buehner on Unsplash