such a nice young man.

on the return to "masculinity" on all fronts and why it's slightly worrying me.

note: before we dive in, i want to make it clear: this isn’t about criticizing anyone’s choices in relationships or lifestyles. i’m genuinely curious and eager to explore this topic together. your thoughts, reflections, and reactions are welcome – feel free to share!

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i’ll admit i’ve fallen victim to the ‘city dweller dreaming of a secluded ranch’ pipeline. to be fair, i’ve already lived it in reverse—so maybe it’s time i let myself return home.

The feeling gains strength amid the fall and winter. Everything inspires nostalgia, and I find myself indulging in whatever makes me feel most at home while I’m away: homemaking.

My routine is solid: every Friday is wash day. I strip the apartment down to its aching bones and toss everything into a rattling old machine that's well past replacement. I deep-clean the bathroom, scrub the kitchen, sweep the floors, and then finish by remaking the bed with my autumn-only sheets and a spray of organic room mist. Strawberry and lily or vanilla, whichever feels right.

Once, my money went to other things. Now, I’m excited to buy a wicker holder for the new toilet brush and the deodorizers I hunted for ages to find. My latest joy? A vintage '60s nightgown, soft as a cloud that makes me feel wrapped and weightless each time I slip beneath my duvet.

Even my online searches have changed since late summer. I’ve curated a whole playlist of "off-the-grid" vlogs—people leaving their city lives to tend gardens beside their overly lavish cabins in wild places beautiful enough to need no editing.

It’s a well-curated illusion, I know, but it feels real enough for a moment.

Yet, amid these personal comforts, broader societal discussions around the home and gender continue to surface. The most recent is an article here by the lovely

Brianna

titled “Lana Del Rey & The Reemergence of Masculinity.”

In a note several of you may have seen I wrote the following,

It’s difficult to fully articulate my feelings about this piece. The writer’s voice is remarkable, and I can understand the appeal of seeking a quiet life, a protective partner and feeling validated by Lana Del Rey’s recent life choices. Yet, I always hesitate when I hear calls for the return of "manly men." To me, they never really left.

Personally, if I don’t have a wife, I imagine myself with a "soft husband." I’m not looking for someone to stand in sharp contrast to me; I want someone whose energy aligns with mine. This doesn’t mean he’s "feminine," but I can’t subscribe to the alpha male rhetoric that’s so pervasive. I believe that hyper-traditional gender roles often seem tailored for white women.

My question is: when we talk about men "returning to masculinity," what do we actually mean by that? What qualities are we associating with it? Also, where are you all finding these soft men? Because I’m still struggling to locate one!

Growing up in the South, my father was far from the so-called "alpha male" type. Many people commenting on this post would likely describe him as a "soft" man. But he created a safe and nurturing space for my mother, my sisters, and me—one that wasn’t consumed by the need to constantly prove his masculinity. I’d argue that he embodied traditional masculinity, taking care of what was deemed "a man’s role" while also providing emotional support.

So, when I hear the call for men to "return to masculinity," I struggle to understand what that really means. Many "soft" men I know are just as masculine, even if they don’t fit into conventional molds or happen not to be straight.

Overall, it’s a lovely piece. While I may not agree with every aspect of the message, I deeply appreciated the writer’s voice and how it drew me in on a personal level, especially as a Lana fan. In some ways, it felt like a return to home.

How Brianna wrote the piece wasn’t meant to harm or belittle anyone who felt differently from her. She’s merely echoing one of two sentiments I’ve seen consistently since the news dropped.

(Even the aesthetic curation is beginning to accumulate. As a Pinterest board I perused captioned itself: He’s in a Chevy, and I’m in love.)

However, the responses to Brianna’s article revealed a contrasting perspective that is worth exploring.

There was a heavy cloud of fear woven into many of the comments, most from women, worrying about how to raise their sons in a so-called “soft” world. They asked where their sons’ birthright to be “normal men” would come from.

Brianna ended the essay by stating something important: traditional can be progressive as long as it pushes partners forward and allows room for change, tolerance, and growth.

The commenters, however, seemed to skip past that thesis and went straight to the usual “these libs and their notions that ruin society” bit. I can’t assume how much the author herself agrees or disagrees with certain parts of this, as she liked several comments that align with the criticisms I’m musing over.

Since then, the piece has been something I keep returning to. I saved it immediately because I felt that tell-tale rush signaling I would end up circling it like a vulture over deceased flesh until I decided to feast.

The definitions of the two ends of the spectrum were as follows:

• traditional masculinity: a set of cultural norms that emphasize traits such as assertiveness, strength, stoicism, and dominance, often associated with roles as a provider and protector.

• “soft” men: individuals who embody gentler qualities such as emotional intelligence, vulnerability, and nurturing behavior, challenging conventional expectations of masculinity sometimes through non-heterosexuality and gender expression.

Now that I’ve had time to ruminate over it, I guess my main takeaway is this: in calling for a return to “traditional masculinity,” I fear we might be calling for something else.

Additionally, there’s a strong belief in the modern myth of the dying “manly man,” which I feel has to do with people centering Western society as the measuring stick for the rest of the world.

carolyn bessette-kennedy and jfk jr. at the hyannis port house in massachusetts, november 1997.

The myth of the endangered “manly” man has woven itself into the very fabric of modern discourse, creating a narrative that insists upon the necessity of a return to outdated ideals of masculinity. This concept thrives on the fear that something essential is being lost—an anxiety that suggests a real man must fit a rigid mold, one that often lacks the nuance of emotional depth or vulnerability.

In this clamoring for the “real” man, I can’t help but wonder if we’re not truly calling for a revival of masculinity but rather a resurgence of traits deeply rooted in misogyny. The world is shifting, and as the foundations of patriarchy tremble, those who cling to its remnants yearn for a return to a time when societal norms catered to their ideals of power and dominance.

Even the film industry is leaning into this troubling narrative that men are unfairly victimized. Recent additions like Miller's Girl (2024) and Strange Darling (2024) center around the idea of a woman preying on a man, portraying him as the unfortunate victim of false accusations.

This rising trend irritates me to my core and sparks frustration—why is it that the narrative so often shifts to pitying the male protagonist? The subtext implies that the world, once again, isn’t giving this “nice young man” a fair chance.

It’s aggravating to watch as these stories reinforce the idea that masculinity is fragile and in need of protection rather than encouraging accountability and understanding across the gender spectrum.

Moreover, the desire to reclaim these elusive conventional expressions of “manliness” is not just about a longing for masculinity; it often reveals an uncomfortable prioritization of white masculinity.

While white men lament the perceived softening of societal standards, it’s crucial to recognize that Black men, among other marginalized groups, are consistently denied the luxury of softness. No matter the conversation, they are held to a different standard—one that demands toughness and resilience, leaving little room for emotional expression or vulnerability.

This disparity sheds light on the hypocrisy embedded in the cries for a return to traditional masculinity; it serves as a reminder that the push for these ideals is often selective, favoring those who fit within a certain racial and cultural narrative.

Interwoven with this is the rise of trad-wife culture, which we are all acutely aware of.

nara smith and her family.

In my opinion, “trad-wife” has morphed into a buzzword that often loses its meaning. A prime example is when a close friend recounted a Reddit forum where someone was labeled a trad wife simply for enjoying knitting as a hobby. Naturally, this sparked confusion and dissent among the members, who rightfully disagreed with that narrow assessment.

Another case in point is Nara Smith, whom I fiercely defend whenever critics come for her. Nara has openly stated that she dislikes being called a “trad-wife” because that label simply doesn’t capture her essence. Yes, she is primarily a stay-at-home mother, and her content revolves around homemaking—essentially cooking and occasionally getting her kids ready for lavish events—but she’s also the breadwinner of her household and a highly successful model.

As she said in an interview,

“You don’t see me getting on a plane, hopping to New York, modeling, coming back—all while I have a newborn—paying bills, filming content, getting my kids dressed. Being put into a certain box, just because people think that I’m slaving away, is so weird to me. I’m a working mum who gets to go about her day in a very different way than [someone with] a normal nine-to-five job would.”

That said, one cannot ignore the increasing prevalence of overt displays of the trad-wife ethos and traditional lifestyles in general. Yet even this phenomenon has its limits—echoing Brianna’s earlier point about the necessity of tradition to leave room for progression.

In an article on Unherd (a source I take with a grain of salt, given their self-proclaimed balance masks a more elitist “screw those snowflakes!!!” attitude), well-known conservative speaker Lauren Southern discussed her realization that the traditional, submissive lifestyle she once championed as the antidote to the perceived “dissolution” of “normal” society didn’t shield her from being in an abusive relationship.

This experience served as a harsh wake-up call. She is now a single mother, working to rebuild her support system and community.

The comments on that article were flooded with men insisting that “we don’t know the full story,” implying that she must have done something to upset her husband and disrupt the traditional balance, thereby deserving the abuse. Interspersed among these were suggestions for her to turn even more towards God, to become more submissive, or a combination of both.

Many readers oversimplified her trauma to “you just picked an asshole and married too young,” claiming that traditional wives typically don’t endure such behavior. A rare few acknowledged that absolutely psychotic men can exploit these lifestyles to reclaim the power and entitlement they feel modern society has stripped away from them.

To further fan the flames, I stumbled upon a compelling piece on the same website by journalist Stella Tsantekidou titled “My Greek Town Doesn’t Need More Tradwives: Reactionary Feminism is Hardly Radical.” I was pleasantly surprised to encounter a decidedly feminist perspective on a platform that often skews otherwise, and it provided a much-needed breath of fresh air.

Tsantekidou articulated a thought-provoking idea: a certain demographic grows weary of equality, presuming that everyone else must feel the same, conveniently overlooking the myriad “traditional” and sometimes oppressive communities that exist beyond their narrow worldview.

“The same problem applies to trad-wife feminism: it’s only considered radical within an elite metropolitan milieu. Everywhere else, it’s just the oppressive norm. Thus there is something distasteful about fashionable neo-prudes—often successful journalists or influencers — telling women to return to the hearth, while millions of women around the world still dream of escaping it. Affluent women may have grown tired of equality, but they shouldn’t give up on the revolution before it’s gone global. If I have to pick between extremes in my Greek hometown, I’d rather see Thessalonikias become Girl Bosses than trad wives.”

I won’t bother recounting the flood of comments that followed.

Nevertheless, that assertion ricocheted in my mind like a golden ball of light, illuminating a feeling I hadn’t realized lingered deep within me. It’s true—some do tire of “equality” and choose to dismiss the experiences of others.

I touched on the fervent indulgence of this mindset in my piece, “You Need to Think,”, particularly regarding how this same demographic insists they’re fed up with holding authors and creatives accountable for racism and other bigoted views, all in the name of wanting to “escape.”

From what? I wonder, my gloss-slick lips pressed together, stifling the urge to voice my true thoughts.

Yet another example of this is the idolization of “old money” love that caters to gender norms.

There’s an undeniable allure surrounding the image of Carolyn Bessette and JFK Jr., who embody the pinnacle of American dynastic charm. They serve as the epitome of a perfect husband-and-wife duo, confined comfortably within their gendered roles while managing to appear progressive enough for our modern sensibilities.

Yet, beneath the surface of their seemingly idyllic romance lies a tumultuous emotional landscape. Many romanticize their relationship, glossing over the complexity and the rollercoaster of emotions they must have experienced. While it’s clear they shared a deep love for one another, the pressure of societal expectations only adds to the weight of their story, highlighting the dangers of idealizing such archetypes.

We want this back, the crowd screams. It never left, I answer.

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This myth of the endangered “normal” man confuses me as someone who is a first-generation daughter of immigrants. It confuses me because the notion of “manly men” is alive and well outside the confines of a U.S.-centric worldview.

In many cultures around the globe, traditional masculinity still holds sway and is celebrated and revered in ways that contradict the claims of its demise. If we look beyond our borders, we see that the archetype of the “real man” continues to thrive, often steeped in cultural practices and values that resist the erosion of those ideals.

In Haiti, where my family originates, tradition is the status quo, and progress often goes unquestioned. My parents are a rare breed: my mother reigns while my father supports her, and I never see him as “soft” for it.

Many of these so-called “alpha males” in real life have sought my father's advice on how he has raised such a successful and traditional family in today’s world. His answer has always been the same: the “American Dream” was never our goal. They quickly became disillusioned, as did I.

It’s crucial to recognize that the “American Dream” can often morph into a nightmare for others. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with pursuing a traditional relationship, it’s vital to allow space for something beyond the picture-perfect ideal of submission.

Now, to be clear, my parents do adhere to certain societal structures and can test my patience with their views on topics like fashion. They lean conservative in many areas.

But when it comes to parenting and their husband-wife dynamic, they break the mold.

This raises further questions about what we truly mean when we call for a return to masculinity—are we yearning for a universal experience, or are we simply longing for a nostalgic version that reflects our own biases and insecurities?

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The notion that “real men” are endangered is not only exaggerated; it’s fundamentally flawed. In truth, your son will likely grow up to be just fine, embodying the characteristics that society has long deemed “normal.”

The idea that masculinity is under siege often serves to distract from the myriad positive expressions of masculinity that exist around us.

Young boys can navigate their identities without the looming shadow of societal expectations dictating their worth. They will find their place in the world, embracing the nuances of masculinity while being shaped by the values of compassion, strength, and respect.

Finally, we must remain vigilant against the propaganda surrounding the so-called “war on masculinity” that continues to permeate our culture. Despite claims of masculinity being in decline, I see “manly men,” “strong men,” and “normal men” everywhere. Yes, many of these individuals only have a podcast and a dream, but their desire to prove they are still on top can be chilling.

We need to be careful about what we conflate with “masculinity”.

As user

Aisha

said in response to my initial feelings toward Briana’s piece,

“Although the writer cites traditional masculinity for the reason of her relationship’s success, it seems she’s conflating other qualities with manliness. Her partner is described as reliable and competent as well as involved in the wider community. I think there’s especially a focus on the division of labour; he catches fish and she cleans. These traits can be present in any relationship, traditional or not. It just so happens that she found it in this setting, and I’m happy for her, but it’d be wrong to claim it doesn’t exist outside of the South or masculinity or whatever.

Also, in terms of the last bit about guys being “not quite straight”, maybe those aesthetic decisions just didn’t look nice. That’s the vibe I got about her opinion of the fling anyway.”

And that’s exactly the point. Is he “traditional,” or is he just nice to you? Is he “traditional,” or is he merely thoughtful, loving you with genuine intent and purpose?

Real love thrives in spaces that nurture understanding, not in rigid adherence to outdated gender roles.

I’m Southern to the bone, yearning for my big ranch house and a partner who balances my need for control and structure. That doesn’t make them soft; it makes our relationship flow more easily.

I don’t believe in struggling for love—which I think is promoted by modern dating culture—but I also don’t think a return to strict tradition is the answer. We need to rediscover balance and take a hard look at the narratives people insist are true. Because they’re not. They’re just something sweet to keep us full and distract us from the complexities of real connection.

Your men haven't disappeared; Darling, he's standing right in front of you.

lana and her husband.