The Masculine Urge To Act

  Masculinity has been showing up in my life differently lately.

In part through the people around me, embodying it in its most grounded forms: security, ambition, provision, and purposeful action. I’ve seen it, too, in the way they honour the feminine in themselves and others – empathy, nurturance, and cooperation. 

And then, I began to notice it in myself. I’ve been less apologetic in my emails, clearer about my wants and intentions in my relationships, and more deliberate in shaping the present and future I want.  

It felt only natural, then, that this piece would explore my current thoughts about masculinity.

Many of the boys I grew up with were taught to be heroes, to believe that the pinnacle of masculinity is prioritising duty above their own humanity. A striking example comes from The Dark Knight. Batman says, ‘I’m whatever Gotham needs me to be.’ For those unfamiliar with the story: Bruce Wayne, Batman’s alter ego, witnessed the brutal murder of his parents as a child. Instead of processing his grief, he channels it into a single purpose – protecting Gotham so no one else suffers as he did.

Anger, fear, and sorrow are transformed into focus, discipline, and control. Love and vulnerability are sacrificed because they are seen as distractions.

I recognise this narrative. It’s one I’ve told myself when I needed to be the ‘hero’ in my own life, but it’s also one woven deeply into our collective idea of strength - the belief that duty should outweigh emotion, that our value lies in how well we serve our role in a family, a friendship, or a job. To feel, and then to honour those feelings, is considered weakness. But this is not natural.

Emotions are innate in all of us. Our bodies and brains are wired to experience and respond to them. Hormones and neurotransmitters – cortisol, dopamine, oxytocin, and adrenaline – shape how we feel and act. They evolved to help us navigate threats, social cues, and rewards.

In other words, emotions are information: they tell us what we want, what we need, what matters, and what we should move away from. Ignoring them, suppressing them, or treating them as weaknesses is ignoring the very data that allows us to live fully and deliberately.

If you want a life that is authentically yours, it makes sense to listen to and honour the emotions that gnaw at you – they are not obstacles, they are direction.

The idea that you must suppress your emotions to be a hero or fulfil your duty is misleading. Of course, you can be heroic and fulfil your duty in that way - I am not challenging Batman’s undeniable heroism - but emotional suppression is not strength. It is a workaround. Emotional literacy, on the other hand, is a power. Facing what you feel, understanding why you feel it, and confronting that discomfort now - that is the true act of heroism. And while not everyone has the safety or space to do this, that only makes it more vital for those who can to try. It saves your future. It allows you to see what truly needs saving, in others and in yourself. It allows you to take action with precision, purpose, and care.

Yet we often confuse action with busy-ness. We fill our days with tasks and responsibilities – and call it productivity. In an economic and political order that glorifies a state of constant activity, busy-ness becomes a badge of purpose: I am doing something; therefore, I am valuable. But it is not action. True action is deliberate. True action is proactivity: choosing what you want to show up for, who you want to be around, and how you want to act - rather than responding out of habit or obligation.

Engaging with your emotions - truly listening to the information they give you - makes action and change possible.

And yes, it is terrifying. Confronting your emotions often means confronting the life you’ve been living – realising that the job, the degree, the relationship, the trajectory you have settled for, is not the one you want. You may discover that much of what you’ve built, achieved, or committed to no longer inspires you. You gain clarity, and clarity demands change. It asks you to break the narrative you’ve been living, to step into uncertainty, to leave behind the comfort of definition.  

Some of us don’t even know how to feel, that’s not wrong. It is all just more information, just paying attention to that data will tell you what matters.

Change happens for two reasons: either because needs must - the pain and suffering becomes so intense that action is unavoidable.

Or because you recognise the value of choosing and decide to act because you see your potential.  

If you want to be brilliant and live a brilliant life, stop living by illusion. Brilliance demands devotion; it demands wrestling with uncomfortable truths. Ultimately, we make the choice.

One change I want to see in the world is increased emotional literacy. I want us to be the last generation to grow up with such rigid, harmful norms: the ‘pink’ way, where you prioritise everyone else’s feelings before your own, and the ‘blue’ way’ where vulnerability or emotion is suppressed in the name of strength. For many young men, the first time they speak honestly about their feelings is in a romantic relationship. That has to change.

So, let’s be the last generation of that. Let’s choose differently - for ourselves and for the generation that follows. Action doesn’t have to be grand; it can be quiet. It can be a conversation with a friend, a piece of writing, a question you finally allow yourself to ask, or simply the act of noticing what you feel. Awareness itself is a form of action. Every choice matters.