Redefining Masculinity in the face of Patriarchal Collapse

I used to be told I was too sensitive.

Too emotional.
Too expressive.
Too feminine.
Too much.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped hearing those words as observations and started hearing them as instructions.

Be quieter.
Be less reactive.
Be less tender.
Be less visible.

So I learned to round my edges. I learned how to become agreeable. I became skilled at absorbing impact instead of creating waves. I became the “good boy.” The one who doesn’t take up space. The one who makes everyone comfortable.

But sensitivity was never the problem.

Self-abandonment was.

What I was actually doing was training my nervous system to survive belonging. When expression threatens connection, the body adapts. It tightens. It edits itself. It learns which emotions are safe and which ones cost love. The system becomes efficient. Strategic. Small.

Rigidity becomes armor.

For years, I thought masculinity meant control. Stoicism. Power. And, honestly, I still judge the performative nature of men as a reflection of their own insecure, scared little boy. A narrow emotional bandwidth. This instilled idea that masculinity and femininity are opposites — like magnets flipped in reverse, like light and dark, like testosterone and estrogen living in separate universes.

But biology doesn’t actually work that way.

I want to be clear that I am not an expert in these fields. And, I am continuing to expand my understanding through studies I will cite at the end of this journal/share, through conversations with folks who are much more informed than I am, through books, and through my own lived experience.

Every human body produces testosterone.
Every human body produces estrogen.
Every human body runs on dopamine, oxytocin, cortisol, serotonin.

The difference isn’t presence versus absence. It’s ratio. It’s timing. It’s receptor sensitivity. It’s lived experience.

In some contexts, these hormonal frameworks are empowering to understand — like when we track the menstrual cycle and see how estrogen and progesterone fluctuations directly influence the amygdala and hypothalamus, shifting threat detection and emotional processing. Hormones shape perception. They modulate stress reactivity. They alter relational sensitivity. This isn’t abstract — it’s neuroendocrinology.

Cis men aromatize testosterone into estrogen, and that estrogen plays a role in mood, libido, bone density, and emotional regulation. Cis women produce testosterone from the ovaries and adrenal glands, and that testosterone contributes to vitality, drive, and assertiveness. These aren’t opposing substances. They are shared architecture.

When trans women begin estrogen therapy and suppress testosterone, their physiology shifts — fat distribution, muscle composition, emotional processing, even aspects of cortical thickness and white matter connectivity over time. The brain responds to hormone exposure across the lifespan. It reorganizes. It adapts. It is plastic.

The body is not a fixed statue. It is a living negotiation.

Even biological sex itself is not a simple switch. Chromosomes, gonads, hormones, anatomy — they do not always align neatly. Intersex variations alone remind us that nature is comfortable with diversity. Large-scale neuroimaging studies suggest that most human brains are mosaics — not purely “male” or “female,” but unique blends of traits statistically more common in one sex or the other.

We are gradients pretending to be binaries.

And somewhere along the way, culture mistook spectrum for threat.

When I look back at the younger version of myself, I don’t see weakness. I see a nervous system trying to survive. If tenderness invites ridicule, tenderness goes underground. If anger threatens abandonment, anger gets swallowed. If softness equals weakness, softness becomes shame.

Rigid masculinity is often just sympathetic activation with a good marketing team.

Chest tight.
Jaw clenched.
Emotion minimized.
Dominance prioritized over connection.

But the healthiest nervous systems are not the most armored. They are the most flexible. Resilience isn’t permanent fight mode. It isn’t collapse either. It’s the capacity to mobilize when needed and soften when safe. To express anger without violence. To feel grief without disappearing. To move.

Integration is not about rejecting strength.

It’s about adding range.

And range is biological truth.

As patriarchal and colonial systems begin to soften, I’ve noticed a tremor underneath the surface — an insecurity. A backlash. A fear that if masculinity is adaptable, it disappears. Alongside that fear, an increase in transphobia — anxiety directed toward people who embody the in-between.

But history tells a quieter story. Across cultures, gender-expansive people were often leaders, mediators, and spiritual authorities. Two-Spirit people within many Indigenous North American nations held ceremonial roles. Hijra communities in South Asia have existed for centuries. Māhū in Hawai’i were recognized as teachers and healers. Fa’afafine in Samoa remain woven into social structure.

Rigid binaries are not universal. They were imposed.

When something is suppressed long enough, its return can look like revolution. But often, it’s just restoration.

There is medicine in the in-between.

And when we attack that space, I can’t help but wonder what part of ourselves we were told was unacceptable.

There is strong evidence showing that when transgender youth receive gender-affirming care, rates of depression and suicidality decrease. Access to affirmation reduces chronic stress load. Suppression correlates with elevated cortisol and prolonged sympathetic activation. Minority stress is measurable. Chronic identity suppression keeps the body in survival mode.

Authenticity regulates.

When expression aligns with embodiment, something settles. Breath deepens. Shoulders drop. The vagus nerve engages. The nervous system recalibrates.

This is not ideology.

It is autonomic.

Today, I stand differently.

I lift weights and set boundaries.
I lead groups and hold vision.
I confront directly and speak clearly.

And I also cry often and almost always during anime/movies.
When my partner and I connect intimately, I am often the first to well up with tears of gratitude and awe.
I paint my nails.
Take long baths.
Initiate romance and cuddles with my friends and partner.
Have loved my long hair.
I love wearing colorful clothing and jewelry.
I love a spa day with face masks and pedicures.
Sing loudly in the shower.

This is not contradiction.

This is wholeness.

Masculinity that fears tenderness is fragile.
Masculinity that includes tenderness is powerful.

Femininity that fears strength is constrained.
Femininity that includes strength is sovereign.

We are not meant to live at one pole.

Biology doesn’t.
The nervous system doesn’t.
History doesn’t.

Why should we?

At the Somatic Embodiment Academy, this is the work. Not erasing masculinity. Not dissolving femininity. But expanding capacity. Teaching bodies how to tolerate anger without violence. How to hold softness without collapse. How to inhabit identity without shame.

Full spectrum.

Deeply felt.

Powerfully embodied.

Not because it is trendy.

But because it is physiologically honest.

And I am done shrinking to fit someone else’s definition of strength.

Integration is not rebellion.

It is remembering.

REFERENCES:

Blackless, M., Charuvastra, A., Derryck, A., Fausto-Sterling, A., Lauzanne, K., & Lee, E. (2000). How sexually dimorphic are we? Review and synthesis. American Journal of Human Biology, 12(2), 151–166.

Davis, S. R., & Wahlin-Jacobsen, S. (2015). Testosterone in women—the clinical significance. The Lancet Diabetes & Endocrinology, 3(12), 980–992.

Driskill, Q.-L. (2010). Doubleweaving Two-Spirit critiques. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, 16(1–2), 69–92.

Fausto-Sterling, A. (2000). Sexing the body: Gender politics and the construction of sexuality. Basic Books.

Finkelstein, J. S., et al. (2013). Gonadal steroids and body composition in men. New England Journal of Medicine, 369, 1011–1022.

Guillamon, A., Junque, C., & Gómez-Gil, E. (2016). A review of the status of brain structure research in transsexualism. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 45, 1615–1648.

Joel, D., et al. (2015). Sex beyond the genitalia: The human brain mosaic. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 112(50), 15468–15473.

Meyer, I. H. (2003). Prejudice, social stress, and mental health in lesbian, gay, and bisexual populations. Psychological Bulletin, 129(5), 674–697.

Nota, N. M., et al. (2017). Brain structure changes in transgender individuals receiving cross-sex hormone treatment. Psychoneuroendocrinology, 80, 190–196.

Porges, S. W. (2011). The polyvagal theory. Norton.

Tordoff, D. M., et al. (2022). Mental health outcomes in transgender and nonbinary youths receiving gender-affirming care. JAMA Network Open, 5(2), e220978.

Turban, J. L., et al. (2020). Pubertal suppression for transgender youth and mental health outcomes. Pediatrics, 145(2), e20191725.