Why can’t some women hear men’s pain?
Some women respond negatively when I say I'm a therapist who helps men.
Not all women push back on the argument that men are hurt by patriarchy too. In fact, when I tell people I’m a therapist who specializes in helping men, it’s women (and queer and trans people) who are my loudest supporters.
“Please keep doing what you’re doing,” they say. “The world needs that.”
Men usually say something like, “That’s cool,” and give me a blank stare.
But some women respond negatively to the idea that men need help. They say men have privilege and all the help we need already. They say we shouldn’t be centering men’s concerns. They say patriarchy was designed by men, so there’s no way it could be hurting us.
These reactions have made me wonder: Why can’t some women see that so many men are suffering too?
I get the sense that it’s because they’ve been directly harmed by men (partners, family members, men at work, men in public). And because men still dominate the halls of power, from the U.S. Congress to Corporate America.
A woman commented on one of my recent posts and helped me see this more clearly:
“It is a deeply personal struggle ... We are angry because we have been taken advantage of, and our anger is justified, and I think it’s important that men understand that in a palpable rather than a merely theoretical way.”
That makes sense to me. When I think about people who’ve hurt or threatened me, the first emotion I feel is anger. Bullies who beat me up when I was a kid. Ex-partners who broke my heart. Drivers who cut me off on the highway.
Underneath the anger is fear and grief and pain. But part of me wants them to know—to really know—that I’m angry. Because I’m afraid. And I don’t want them to do it again.
Feminism has undoubtedly changed the world for the better. The proportion of college students who are women is approaching a record 60 percent. Single women are outpacing men in homeownership. A woman may soon become president.
But our society is still a dangerous and unjust place for women. Over a third of women in the U.S. have experienced rape, physical violence, and/or stalking by an intimate partner. More than two-thirds—70 percent—of women aged 18-24 years old say they’ve experienced sexual harassment in public. It’s estimated that women around the world take on three times as much care and domestic work than men.
And so it makes total sense that many women are angry and have little room for men’s experiences and feelings.
The late feminist writer bell hooks was brutally honest in her book The Will to Change:
“Women and children all over the world want men to die so that they can live. This is the most painful truth of male domination, that men wield patriarchal power in daily life in ways that are awesomely life-threatening.”
Yet, hooks also wrote, “Patriarchy is the single most life-threatening social disease assaulting the male body and spirit.”
I write this newsletter for many reasons. But mostly it’s to expose other men to things that have dramatically improved my life, particularly therapy and feminism.
I’ve learned in therapy how to access, feel, and communicate my emotions. This has made my relationships and friendships healthier, closer, and deeper. I don’t feel as isolated and lonely as I often did as a boy and through my 20s. I don’t get as anxious or depressed as I used to.
I’ve learned from feminism that so-called “traditional” ideas about gender are not actually traditional. The ways I’ve been socialized as a man aren’t based on science or history. They’re myths meant to keep me thinking and acting certain ways that benefit those at the top of our political and economic systems.
Men aren’t supposed to share our vulnerable emotions, especially with other men. We might be seen as “weak,” “soft,” “beta,” or “gay.” We might lose our place in the pecking order of power. We might lose access to the relative privilege we have compared to most women and other marginalized genders.
So we hide our true feelings deep inside. We put on a tough exterior. Or a “nice guy” mask. Or at least we’re always trying to appear calm, cool, and collected, like we’ve got it all figured out and don’t need help.
This is literally life-threatening. The suicide rate for boys and men is skyrocketing, now four times higher than for girls and women. As founding president of the American Institute for Boys and Men
has documented, working-class men in particular “face alarmingly high risks from ‘deaths of despair’ such as suicide, drug overdoses, and alcohol-related deaths.”In more gender-equal societies, men are less likely to be depressed, commit suicide, or die a violent death. We also sleep better, suffer less from chronic back pain, and have better sex.
I wholeheartedly agree with bell hooks. Patriarchy is a “life-threatening social disease assaulting the male body and spirit.”
Why can’t some women see that? Why can’t they see that we’re on the same team? We, as in men who aren’t running Fortune 500 companies or don’t have the political power to pass laws legislating women’s bodies.
I realize this is a variation of the argument #NotAllMen. And I realize that many men wield their relative power over women in life-threatening or at least abusive ways. But I’m genuinely curious. Again, because patriarchy is life-threatening to men too. Not as much as it is to women. But still life-threatening to some and spirit-destroying to all.
I guess I’m asking the same questions
asked in a recent newsletter of hers:“I believe that everyone at their core is innately good. But how to integrate that belief with the reality that so many men behave so poorly so often? How to walk through the world eyes wide open, while still believing the best in people?”
I don’t pretend to have the answers. I’m curious what you think.
Now, a question for the comments below (or email me at jeremy@mohler.coach): Why do you think some women can’t hear men’s pain?
(P.S. If you become a paid subscriber for $5/month, you’ll get my weekly Friday Q&A posts with tips for a healthier, more fulfilling relationship, plus the warm feeling of supporting my writing!)
If I can offer this from someone who does care about the pain of all humans - it’s not that we can’t see your pain or even empathize. It’s that right now our rights are being stripped from us, in dramatic fashion, and in a little over two weeks it could get worse.
Our pain is utterly ignored. Physical and mental pain are expected of us, and people are rooting for it. Men’s pain, while suppressed by patriarchy, is literally ruining our lives. All of that pain is being taken out on us.
So we can empathize. But women can’t center men’s pain right now. We just can’t.
So it’s great you are doing what you’re doing. I think more men need to be in therapy. Even my very evolved feminist ally husband took YEARS to agree to go. It’s a mentality I hope will change.
I kind of feel like you answered your own question in the course of the piece - it’s not that we don’t care, it’s that the emotional labour of caring alongside trying to stay alive is exhausting, and constantly taking the time to show that care to people - many of whom continue to perpetuate stereotypes of patriarchy even when they think they’re trying not to - wears you down. Some days we are able to mask it and continue to make with the empathy and support…other days not so much.
When you’ve been raised your whole life to put men’s needs, wants and feelings before your own…and you finally find your voice and start to draw boundaries, someone asking you to make some room once again for that which has (knowingly or not) continually harmed you is a hard pill to swallow. It passes, the rage and the fight or flight dies down and we inevitably fall back into empathy again for one person or another…but I find many women are just not able to keep up that level of empathy continually any more. The mask slips, and sometimes even falls off.
I believe that the more things change, as men start to prove that they too are in it for the long haul, as they start to work together openly with women to build a better world, women will begin to feel safer letting their guard down enough in order to allow some more empathy back in.
But right now, it’s still too close to being akin to that partner who changes behaviours just enough to stop you leaving them. Anyone can toe the line for a little while to get what they want. What matters is how they behave when there’s no reward but self improvement or the betterment of things for others outside their own lot. That’s when the true growth begins, and that’s when the trust can start to be rebuilt.