Not all men

A few months ago I wrote several posts on Substack (link at the end of this blog) about the growing tension that seems to exist more and more between men and women. I wrote about women’s anger, fear, mistrust and exhaustion. And about the pain many women carry after their own experiences or after witnessing the experiences of others.

I wrote about the atmosphere we are living in now, where stories of abuse, violence and exploitation appear constantly in the news and online spaces, creating a growing feeling of division and suspicion between the sexes.

These things are real and they should not be dismissed or minimised.

The Epstein files, the Gisèle Pelicot case, the disturbing “62 Million Rape Academy” story, documentaries like The Manosphere, the Me Too movement and the anger and misogyny growing in some online spaces are deeply disturbing and should be taken seriously.

Beneath all the discussions, documentaries, court cases and headlines are real human beings who went through unimaginable experiences and I feel deeply sorry for them. There is so much trauma, grief and pain there.

I think part of why I wanted to understand what happened, to read, to listen and not look away, was also a way of honouring their experiences. Of allowing their voices to be heard rather than ignored or forgotten.

I truly hope that the people who suffered receive healing, support and justice, in whatever ways are possible now.

At the same time, these stories affect us psychologically and they shape the way women see men and the way men begin to see themselves through women’s eyes. They create fear, defensiveness, mistrust and sadness on both sides. I can understand why many women feel angry and unsafe, I understand the grief and disappointment behind it.

But I also want to say something that feels important to me: most men I know are good men.

And I think this matters to say out loud, especially now. I say this because my own lived experience of men, particularly through my work, has often been far more gentle, tender and human than the image that is constantly presented online.

I meet men in vulnerable spaces. I see them without performance, without status, without armour. I meet men who are caring, respectful and deeply sensitive. They worry about crossing boundaries, they apologise because they are concerned about making someone uncomfortable.

The men I meet want to love and offer tenderness. Some of them have rarely experienced softness themselves.

Some of the kindest, most emotionally present and respectful people I have met in my life have been men.

This does not erase the existence of harmful men. It does not erase women’s suffering or difficult experiences. It does not mean abuse should be ignored or minimised.

But I also do not want to participate in a world where men are increasingly seen through the lens of the worst male behaviour imaginable.

There is something deeply painful about watching millions of men slowly become associated with danger, exploitation or emotional incompetence simply because of what some men have done.

And I think many good men feel this too. I think many of them  carry the feeling that they are already viewed with suspicion before they have even spoken.

Sometimes I read comments online and feel sadness at how quickly human beings reduce each other into categories. Men speaking about women as though they are difficult and impossible to please. Women speaking about men as though they are inherently dangerous, selfish or emotionally unavailable.

And somewhere in the middle of all this noise, I keep meeting real human beings who do not fit these narratives at all.

I meet men who bring me flowers, who speak gently, who ask me if I am ok, who ask if I got home safely. Men who carry tenderness and vulnerability in their hearts. Men who are trying to heal parts of themselves they were taught to suppress for years. Men who long to feel loved and to love sincerely.

I think one of the saddest things happening right now is that fear is slowly eroding our ability to see each other clearly.

And I say this as a woman who is not naïve about the world. I know darkness exists, I know abuse exists, I know some women carry unimaginable pain because of what certain men have done to them.

But I also know that goodness exists too. I know men whose presence makes me feel deeply safe, whose kindness is sincere and steady. I know men who are trying their best to become more conscious, more emotionally open, more respectful and more loving.

And I think they deserve to be seen too.

Perhaps one of the most healing things we can do right now is resist the temptation to collapse entire groups of people into fear based narratives. To remember that human beings are more complex than headlines, algorithms and online outrage would have us believe.

Because when I step away from the internet and return to real life, I do not experience most men as monsters, I experience them as human.

Link to the Substack posts I mentioned here:

https://substack.com/home/post/p-194174695

Love,

Rosie x