I’m not supposed to be talking about this shit. I really shouldn’t be wasting my time, but these simple ass MFers—yeah, you heard me—are giving me a headache I didn’t ask for. I’ve got bigger, more productive things to write about, but nope, here I am, because y’all just had to start flexing your imaginary muscles and projecting your so-called “masculine energy” all over the place. And frankly, it reeks.
Let me say this loud and clear: getting bulked up during the pandemic doesn’t make you a man. Injecting your existential crises with a weekly ketamine regimen sure as hell doesn’t either. And the fact that you feel the need to show me, over and over again, just proves what we all know but won’t say out loud—you’re not a man. You’re just a person who happens to have tiny hands (yeah, I said it) and an even smaller sense of self-worth.
And you know what? I’m not just blaming men for this nonsense. Nope. I’m throwing this one at the feet of women too. Y’all out here hyping up these insecure projections, feeding into the madness, clapping for the loudest bark in the room like it’s some kind of prize. Congratulations, you’ve just fueled another ego parade. Feel good about that?
I should be writing about something meaningful right now, but instead, I’m stuck here untangling this mess of “masculinity” and trying to make sense of why anyone thinks it needs to be announced like a damn circus act. Thanks for the headache. Now to our previously scheduled programming.
Let’s talk about masculine energy, shall we? You know, that nebulous concept people toss around like a football at a tailgate party, shouting, “Look at my big, manly energy! Look at my balls!” Yes, Chad, we see them. We also see your crippling insecurity, but hey, keep shouting—it’s a great way to keep the rest of us entertained.
First off, let’s break this nonsense down. What the hell is masculine energy anyway? Who invented it? Was there a board meeting? Did some guy named Trevor in a Patagonia vest hold a PowerPoint presentation and say, “Gentlemen, I’ve got it! Masculine energy! It’s like testosterone, but for branding!”? Probably. And like everything else made for mass consumption, it’s a load of overpriced BS wrapped in faux-alpha bravado.
Now, here’s the kicker: The dudes who shout about their big balls—their “alpha male status,” their ability to “dominate the room”—are the ones who wouldn’t survive 30 seconds in a room with an actual confident human being. Because real men, the ones with presence, wisdom, and an undeniable aura of “I’ve got this,” don’t have to announce their masculinity like it’s a poorly reviewed one-man play. Real men don’t bark. They don’t strut. They just are.
You know what the loudest bark in the room really is? Fear. The guy screaming about how masculine he is, how dominant, how “alpha,” is the human equivalent of a Chihuahua in a leather jacket. He’s small, fragile, and compensating. (Yes, Kyle, that’s why you bought the lifted truck with tires big enough to crush your fragile ego. We get it. You’re compensating. Move along.)
And this isn’t just about men. Oh, no. This is for the women and other men out there who love these projecting peacocks. You know who you are. You’re the ones cheering them on, egging them into more absurd declarations of their “manliness.” If you think their loud proclamations of strength are a turn-on, well, you might need to have a little chat with your therapist about why “loud insecurity” is your love language.
Let’s clear up a few myths while we’re here. Toxic masculinity? Propped up by insecure psychologists who happen to be men to justify their or others bad behavior. Masculine energy? A buzzword for people who don’t have a dictionary but want to sound like they’ve read something important. Real masculinity? It’s calm. It’s quiet. It’s steady. It doesn’t shout from the rooftops. It walks into the room, does what needs to be done, and leaves without asking for applause.
Real masculinity is the guy who’ll fix your flat tire without mentioning it 14 times on Instagram. It’s the friend who says, “You need help moving?” and actually shows up on Saturday with a truck and a bad back. It’s the father who teaches his kids to respect everyone and fear no one. Real masculinity doesn’t need a label, a slogan, or a marketing campaign. It’s just there, like gravity, holding things together without making a big deal about it.
So, to all the loud men shouting about their balls, and to all the people who encourage them, here’s some advice: Stop. Just stop. No one is impressed, and honestly, we’re all a little embarrassed for you. Real men don’t need to announce themselves at the door. They just show up when it matters.
And to those of you still clinging to your fragile concepts of “masculine energy,” let me leave you with this: If you’re yelling about it, you probably don’t have it. Because real masculinity? It’s like the cool guy at the party. You don’t need him to tell you he’s cool.
You just know.