For Gloria Steinem, Women’s Liberation Meant Men’s Liberation, Too

Since her death, social media has lit up with heartfelt stories and testimonies, mostly from women, about Gloria’s impact on their lives. When men have weighed in with expressions of gratitude, it’s often been to thank her for helping to create a world in which their mothers, wives and daughters had a much better shot at pursuing their dreams.

For the record, this “better world” for women has been a tremendous boon for men and boys, too. And what has largely been missing from men’s grateful accounts of Gloria Steinem’s good works are the ways in which her leadership contributed directly to improvements in men’s lives.

She did this, in part, by using her platform to articulate—in a very public way—the idea that patriarchal culture was damaging not only to women, but also to men of every ethnic and racial background and sexual orientation.

Gloria Steinem was also one of the first prominent feminists to express empathy for men—like me—who struggled with the question of what it means to be a strong man who supports gender justice and wants men to lead more connected and authentic lives.

I Sympathize With the Gender-Policing Boys That Ruined My Childhood—Because Homophobia and Bullying Are Symptoms of the Same Disease

Across the country, many boys and young men are navigating loneliness and uncertainty about who they are expected to become. Rigid ideals of masculinity can shape that search: Be self-reliant. Do not show too much emotion. Face problems alone. Looking for acceptance and a sense of belonging, some move through online communities and public figures—from red-pill influencers and podcasters to politicians—that offer competing, often prescriptive, ideas of manhood.

I was one of these young boys nearly 20 years ago. This is my story.

Girls Have Always Had ADHD. We Just Weren’t Looking.

A teenage girl watches a 30-second TikTok video by @Clairebear describing “a day in hell” in her life, “ADD edition”:

“I get up and go to work and realize I don’t have gas in my car. I get to the gas station and reach for my credit card and remember that I don’t in fact have my card because I keep thinking it will turn up at some point.”

She continues explaining her day and reveals that these are all symptoms and signs of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

The teenage girl in question sees much of herself in that scenario, goes to the doctor and is evaluated and diagnosed.

Welcome to modern medicine.

High School Sex Ed Is No Longer the Norm. That’s a Problem When Students Go to College.

It’s back-to-school season, and besides exams, essays and job applications, college students have another threat to worry about: sexual assault. As many U.S. universities start their fall semesters, we’re heading into the “Red Zone”—the high-risk period on college campuses from now through Thanksgiving break, when over 50 percent of all campus sexual assaults occur.

But many students arrive on campus without having received the sex education that could help prepare them to navigate consent, communication and sexual relationships. A recent survey from college sexual assault prevention nonprofit It’s On Us found that more than two-thirds of men now in college never received formal sex education in high school.

Millions of U.S. high schoolers lack comprehensive, inclusive sex education—or receive no sex education at all—leaving too many without meaningful instruction on consent and communication before they enter college. Today, 36 states and the District of Columbia require schools to teach sex ed. But not all require curricula to cover basics such as consent and contraception, and some do not even mandate that sex education taught in schools be medically accurate.

And instead of closing those gaps, the Trump administration is making them worse. Its attacks on public school sex ed include cutting millions of dollars in funding for community sex education and teen pregnancy prevention programs, while encouraging organizations to rewrite their sex ed programs to promote pregnancy and parenthood.

The Silence I Learned to Carry: Real Talk From a Male Survivor of Sexual Abuse

Roughly one in six men in the United States experience sexual abuse before age 18, yet many never disclose their abuse because of stigma and rigid expectations about masculinity.

As a survivor, I learned early that being a boy, and later a man, meant burying fear, sadness and vulnerability. My silence equated with strength, control and survival—a lesson reinforced by male role models and peers.

Let’s face it, most sexual violence is committed by men, but women and girls are not its only victims. Men and boys experience sexual violence, too. Although it’s not talked about as much, we are survivors too. 

So, let’s talk about it—to heal ourselves and help others.

My journey has given me a unique opportunity to help others while continuing to heal myself. I believe I am meant to use my lived experience as a tool for good in the world. I’ve learned that many boys and men carry similar stories, often in isolation, often convinced that no one would believe them or care. Masculinity did not protect me; it protected the silence around abuse. And I learned that healing required not becoming “less of a man,” but redefining what being a man could mean.

Never Surrender: Empowered Wives Were Never the Problem

Over the past year, several women-focused articles in the New York Times declared feminism has gone too far, and put the onus on women to fix what is broken.

An article asking if liberal feminism “ruined the workplace” broke the internet late last year.

An article last month featured a conversation with influential, right-wing columnist Louise Perry, about how women need to change, in order to close the growing gap between men and women. Perry’s position justifies re‑inscribing patriarchal control over women’s bodies and sexuality in the name of “protecting” us.

I feel a familiar sense of disappointment in the recent feature, “Women Are Too Controlling, She Wrote. Her Message Still Resonates,” about Laura Doyle, author of The Surrendered Wife, a 2001 self‑help book and the basis for a relationship “movement” that teaches women to relinquish control in their marriages, defer to their husbands’ decisions (including finances), and focus on their own “self‑care” and gratitude to restore intimacy and harmony.

Each article asks a version of the same question: How should women change?

Doyle’s message and the broader “surrendered wife” ideology, is troubling.

What struck me even more was that one of the country’s most influential newspapers presented it as a growing cultural trend, without examining the cultural forces and gender expectations that have long reinforced this ideology.

Women and feminism don’t need to surrender. They were never the problem.    

Domestic Violence Is a Men’s Issue

Nearly one in two women has experienced domestic violence (DV) in their lifetime, yet accountability remains limited, as nearly half of survivors never report their abuse to law enforcement. Out of fear of retribution, survivors often minimize harm and shield their perpetrator’s behavior, shifting responsibility away from them: “That’s just how men are,” or “He didn’t mean it.” DV affects almost everyone—directly or indirectly. Nearly half of people know someone who has experienced it, through personal experience, witnessing it in childhood, seeing loved ones endure it or encountering it in public spaces. 

DV has taught me about silence. The silence of victims who feared retaliation or shame. The silence of witnesses like me who did not know how to intervene. And the silence of communities that preferred to avoid conflict and not to disrupt the image of a functional family. Silence does not protect anyone; it allows the harm to continue. 

In America, toxic masculinity thrives in that silence. It discourages men from seeking help, discourages women from speaking out and discourages bystanders from stepping in. Over time, domestic violence becomes predictable as patterns emerge—slammed doors, raised voices, a tension that fills rooms before anyone speaks.

Over time, beneath their rage, I’ve come to understand that many male abusers are suffering too or have suffered. The problem is, intimate partner violence will not end by ignoring men. This raises essential questions beyond how did we get here, in a nation that champions violence and spends more on its military than on education and social services. For example, who is intervening to address husbands and boyfriends who batter? What tools are needed to support men in building lives free from violence? Let’s be clear, addressing these challenging concerns will not only benefit men, but also their families and society more broadly. Families deserve to heal from domestic violence, and men should be part of that equation.   

Hegseth’s Testosterone Bit Isn’t About Health

The Trump administration has gotten rather … hormonal. As someone who cares deeply about the science and politics of all kinds of bodily matters, including and especially hormonal health and treatments, it is a truly bizarre exercise to unpack the latest news.

Last week, the defense secretary took to the airwaves to announce new mandatory screening of testosterone levels for all military members over 30, arguing the need to “optimize performance,” “combat Operator Syndrome” (a physical and behavioral condition uniquely attributed to soldiers who undergo intense training) and “maximize mission readiness.” Anyone deemed testosterone-deficient will be offered hormone therapy, presumably including the 230,000 women in active-duty service — who presumably may seek access to estrogen, progesterone and/or testosterone (hard to say given that women were not mentioned).

But of course, debate over optimal hormonal health is hardly the point. Only the most jacked-up soldiers fulfill Hegseth’s military fever dream — which he has made clear is devoid of women, whom he wants removed from combat roles altogether (he also has continued to block promotions of active-duty female Naval officers). The Trump administration has already banned transgender soldiers, at least based in part on the theory that their hormone treatments (though, in this case, they’d call it gender-affirming care, with a sneer) would be challenging to sustain.

It is not easy for me to put aside Hegseth’s distorted recasting of testosterone. That said, it happens to be true that federal regulatory guidelines for its usage are in need of an update and upgrade. As a menopause advocate, I fight hard for a world in which accessible, affordable hormonal care and treatment is a priority for all.

If You’re Alone on the Prairie, Would You Rather Meet a Man or a Wolf?

It would be easy to be cynical about a remake of Little House on the Prairie (Netflix). At a moment when “tradwife” nostalgia and gender politics dominate so much of our cultural conversation, the series arrives as an unexpected relief—and maybe just what we need today.

The series presents a vision of manhood built around care rather than conquest: thoughtful men, flawed men, men for whom fatherhood is the center of their lives. They aren’t heroes, exactly—just plain, decent men trying to find their footing in a country freshly out of a war that ended slavery, even as it stepped into a new era of oppressing the people who were already here. The show never lets you forget that history. It’s always present, but it’s carried by characters wrestling with the same universal struggles we all recognize.

The women and girls matter just as much. They’re fierce and determined, never reduced to helpless victims—and it’s largely through how the men in the show treat them that we get the show’s gentlest lessons on how men and women can meet each other halfway.

The Mask Is the Message

Most of us have seen the photograph by now.

I keep coming back to the masks.

Masks have always carried meaning. A surgeon wears one to protect a patient. Someone recovering from an illness wears one to protect themselves and others. A firefighter wears one to survive long enough to save someone else.

But when someone covers their face while intimidating another person, threatening a community, or committing a crime, the purpose isn’t protection. It’s concealment. It’s a way of saying: I want to do this, but I don’t want anyone to know it was me. That’s why Patriot Front marches with their faces covered.

Federal immigration agents carrying out arrests in public places wear face coverings for the same reasons: They create anonymity. They make accountability harder. They allow participants to disappear back into ordinary life once the march is over. They make denial easier.

I’ve participated in protests and marches over the years alongside hundreds—sometimes thousands—of people. Not one of us wore a mask. We stood behind our words and convictions. We accepted that our names belonged with our beliefs.