In the traditional ways of our society, masculinity is often deemed as a badge of strength, while femininity is equated with weakness. From the workplace to personal relationships, people, regardless of gender, who present or behave in more “masculine” ways are seen as more competent and commanding. Those who display traits considered “feminine,” such as empathy or emotional openness, are often dismissed as fragile or unserious. These taught biases don’t just affect how we see others, they shape how we see ourselves.
The workplace is one of the clearest mirrors of this divide. Women who wear pantsuits or adopt assertive, traditionally masculine behaviors are often taken more seriously than those who choose skirts or softer tones. Yet even when women behave in these “masculine” ways, they rarely receive the same level of respect as their male counterparts. They walk a narrow line, if they lean into femininity, they’re seen as weak, if they lean into masculinity, they’re often labeled “too much.” This double standard exposes a deeper cultural truth, our society values masculinity over femininity, regardless of who embodies it.
These expectations stretch far beyond appearance. We are taught from a young age that strength means suppression, especially for men. Emotions like sadness or vulnerability are coded as feminine, and therefore shameful. Boys are told not to cry, that “real men” don’t show weakness. Yet anger, deemed a more “masculine” emotion, is treated as acceptable, even powerful. This emotional imbalance has serious consequences. When men are taught to bury sadness, it doesn’t disappear, it turns into frustration, resentment, and sometimes violence. The inability to express emotion isn’t strength, it’s a cage. The myth that feeling deeply makes someone weak is one of the most damaging lies masculinity has ever told.
Even the small things we overlook reveal our cultural bias toward masculinity. Take, for example, our attitudes toward cats and dogs. Dogs, active, athletic, rough, are often labeled “man’s best friend,” embodying traits associated with masculinity. Cats, on the other hand, are delicate and boundary-setting, qualities that society reads as feminine. It’s not surprising, then, that cats are often described as “aloof” or “unfriendly.” For instance, cats will make it clear when they do not wish to socialize with you, which is also something women exhibit in order to survive oppressive systems or individuals, like when a man is cat calling her. If she does not interact she is seen as rude. This dislike mirrors society’s discomfort with femininity, traits like independence and emotional nuance are misread as coldness, just as a woman who sets boundaries is called “difficult.” Even our pet preferences, in some situations, reflect our cultural hierarchy of traits. In many cases, men find comfort when they feel that women need or rely on them, and when this is disrupted, they grow angry.
For women and gender-nonconforming people, this hierarchy can be especially punishing. Masculine-presenting women are sometimes perceived as “hard to love,” not because they lack warmth, but because their strength challenges men who have been taught to dominate. Men may feel threatened by a woman who mirrors their assertiveness, seeing her as a rival rather than an equal. The same dynamic can exist between men, a man who presents more femininely may be targeted by those desperate to assert their dominance, a behavior rooted in fragile masculinity. Violence, bullying, and homophobia often stem from this insecurity, the need to prove one’s manhood by rejecting anything coded as feminine.
But if we strip these ideas down to their core, we see that masculinity and femininity are social constructions, labels we’ve created to box human behavior into two extremes. People aren’t either soft or strong, we are all a blend of both. Yet from the moment we’re born, we’re assigned colors, toys, and even emotions. Blue for boys, pink for girls. Strength for one, tenderness for the other. Society tells us that we must choose, when in reality, human beings exist on a spectrum. Everyone feels sadness and anger, gentleness and intensity. These are not opposites, they are parts of the same whole.
True strength isn’t in suppressing emotions or dominating others, it’s in balance. It takes far more courage to say, “That hurt me,” than to lash out in anger. It takes intelligence and grace to stay calm in moments when the world tells you to be hard. We should not have to masculinize ourselves to be respected, nor should softness be equated with weakness. As a society, we need to learn to see strength in grace, power in compassion, and courage in vulnerability. Once we allow things, people, emotions to co-exist, we can reject the idea that one is reduced to the box they’ve been assigned and everyone can live fully without limitation.
