NEED SEX / LOVE / RELATIONSHIP ADVICE? TEXT SELF-SERVICE +61 488 848 782!

Search
Close this search box.

for love notes, affirmations, launch announcements etc.

Fill in the boxes that represent your information love languages.

By signing up, you acknowledge that you are over 16.* 

Like love notes?

We don’t do spam, just tips on how to get sexier.


    By signing up, you acknowledge that you are over 16.*

    5 MIN READ

    A Call For Redistribution

    Co-writing a new sociocultural narrative.

    A quick foreword: 

    This piece speaks generally to the relationship between cisgendered men, and women. Many AFAB (assigned female at birth) persons will relate to the issue, and my use of the term women includes trans women. I will stick with ‘woman’ but apologise for my limited linguistic inclusion.

    In the Western world, women play the role of emotional carers – a status quo which leaves women over-stressed and used, and leaves men disconnected from their friends and mental health assistance.

    Let’s set the scene: A leading man is strong, resilient, and dauntless. He reveals emotions and trauma only to his female counterpart – she, and only she, understands him. This trope has been romanticised repeatedly in our fiction: the female lover, mythologised as the keeper of men’s secrets. Sweet for the men, but an exhaustive, unreciprocated reality for women, forever playing the unpaid therapist, mother figure, and loving wife all in one. If you think about the male/female relationships around you, which partner more often empathises with their partner’s stress? More likely know their love language (and actively work to utilise it)? Does the emotional problem-solving, bringing up issues respectfully, and looking for solutions? Who’s more likely to simply ask their partner how their day was and how they’re feeling? Most of you are going to have similar answers. So how did we get here? How did women end up being the emotional keepers of men when the energy isn’t reciprocated?

    Neurosexism is one of the answers– a bias within the neuroscience of differences between sexes. Neurosexism assumes that males and females behave differently due to brain development instead of socialisation and societal structures. We’ve long accepted men and women think differently at a biological level, using this idea to perpetuate the antiquated stereotype that women are naturally better caregivers and more comfortable in the domestic than professional sphere. We’ve turned a blind eye to the bias completely inescapable in research: researchers were also raised in a world that doesn’t treat all genders equally. Hence, this is one of the reasons that we’ve been asking  ‘why are men and women different?’ instead of  ‘are men and women different?’ The idea of women being naturally more empathetic is built by, and into, the foundation of our patriarchy, shaping not only social understanding of gender roles but interpersonal relationships.

    And we are all suffering for it – assuming a woman should naturally be available to you at all times for your emotional benefit (while offering little in return) is in itself a manner of objectification, which dehumanises women (Cheeseborough et al., 2020) – a factor that can support the power imbalance, allowing continued violence towards women. And while it’s clear that one side may face the more violent and overwhelming effects, it isn’t just women who are facing the outcomes. The aftermath of accepting this inequality is everywhere; one example would be men’s lack of involvement in childcare. Men are less likely to enter fields like childcare and are stigmatised in the field due to society viewing this type of work as historically feminine (ROBB, 2019). Everyone seems to remember at least one salacious rumour going around school about a male teacher – with men having removed themselves from these spaces in the past. As we move towards a modern form of masculinity, men are beginning to see that re-entering these spaces may not be easy. These stereotypes stop them again from caring, continuing the cycle we’re trying to avoid. We all undermine men’s ability to care for and nurture one another and their children because, historically, that duty has been placed on women. The idea is bred into us, like all societal values are – by our media, legal powers, and socialisation, then perpetuated generation after generation. Another example of men’s suffering from this removal from emotions, from actively caring, is showcased in the mental health statistics. 

    Men’s mental health is at a devastating point in Australia, with 25% of men experiencing a diagnosed mental health issue in their lifetime and only a quarter saying they would seek professional help if experiencing issues (“Depression, suicidality and loneliness: mental health and Australian men”, 2020). As we watch the aftermath of this imbalance of emotional labour flower, it’s time to say for sure: this cannot change if men don’t change – the risk of this sentiment being screamed into an echo chamber is too great, too real. This has to be understood by those perpetuating it. To the men I hope are reading this, you may feel frustrated, having long been urged to express your emotions. But these imbalances are part of the problem. 

    Positioning women as your primary emotional carers isn’t the answer. Creating an emotional support network involving friends, partners, siblings, and professionals means no one individual is tasked with an overwhelming duty of care. Relying on one woman to carry you through your emotions hurts you both. It keeps you from forming trusting emotional relationships with other men and discourages you from seeking genuine mental health assistance or general support. Could this be because you’re getting it for free and easy at home, where women are typically more likely than men to listen, offer advice and guidance, take the ‘load’ from their partner, and generally show warmth and appreciation (Strazdins & Broom, 2004)? It reconfirms that men see the women they love as caregivers first and people second, reflecting that this loving work often goes unacknowledged or devalued (Strazdins & Broom, 2004). Start talking to your male friends. Book a therapy appointment. Join a support group. At a bare minimum, question if you support the women around you as much as they help you. 

    Finally, herein lies a dirty truth– we also centralise women as our support. Do you complain to your friends about your boyfriend instead of him because he won’t understand or listen? Would you stay friends with a woman who acted that way? Start expecting more from the men around you. They must know as partners and friends that they are equally responsible for the emotional well-being of their relationships. Set boundaries – explain what you need and expect and that you won’t be doing all the work anymore. Stop making excuses for them. It’s time for us to decentralise men and start setting boundaries. 


    Added References:

    Cheeseborough, T., Overstreet, N., & Ward, L. (2020). Interpersonal Sexual Objectification, Jezebel Stereotype Endorsement, and Justification of Intimate Partner Violence Toward Women. Psychology Of Women Quarterly44(2), 203-216. https://doi.org/10.1177/0361684319896345

    Depression, suicidality and loneliness: mental health and Australian men. Australian Institute of Family Studies. (2020). Retrieved 1 June 2022, from https://aifs.gov.au/media-releases/depression-suicidality-and-loneliness-mental-health-and-australian-men.

    ROBB, M., 2019. MEN, MASCULINITIES AND THE CARE OF CHILDREN. 1st ed. [S.l.]: ROUTLEDGE, p.27.

    Strazdins, L., & Broom, D. (2004). Acts of Love (and Work). Journal Of Family Issues25(3), 356-378. https://doi.org/10.1177/0192513×03257413




    Share

    GO DEEPER