A letter to men

I want to talk about a topic close to my heart—one that activates much of the work I do in the world:

The gender and sexual conditioning of men and male-bodied people.

I live in a country that is deeply macho, where masculinity is prized and femininity in men is often seen as a threat. Growing up in Australia, I was raised in a culture where boys are taught to accentuate their masculinity and minimize, or outright deny, their femininity. In this environment, even suggesting that a man has feminine traits is considered a grave insult to his character—something that can be unsafe for him, both emotionally and physically.

In the sunburnt land of Australia, "feminine" traits—like feelings and emotions, the desire for heart intimacy, and softness—are seen as weaknesses that dilute a man’s masculinity. These traits are often branded as “gay,” which in this context, can have serious consequences, particularly in schools or male-dominated institutions.

For a boy to survive the school system and avoid bullying or exclusion, he must deny any sign of his feminine nature. He must suppress the very things that make him human.

I have a friend with two sons, and he told me that although he doesn't want to "toughen them up"—to tell them no hugging other boys, no crying—he knows that if he doesn't, they will face worse things when they reach high school. Like he did. Lateral violence.

The consequences of this conditioned masculinity in boys, paired with the inherent homophobia attached to any feminine expression, means that intimacy between boys and men is not just discouraged—it is condemned.

I identify as a woman, and I’ve had female lovers. In my community, this is seen as something positive—perhaps even objectified as "hot." Girl-on-girl intimacy is widely accepted among my peers. I can hug, kiss, and touch my female friends in various ways, and it’s understood as platonic affection with no drama attached. In modern culture, this kind of intimacy between women is deemed acceptable.

Yay for me and my homegirls!

But here’s the tragic irony: this is not the case for men.

At all.

Platonic touch between men—especially heterosexual men—is deeply shamed. A heterosexual man sharing sexual intimacy with another heterosexual man? Unthinkable. Horrendous.

Maintaining masculinity is so tied to a man’s sense of survival—it is about not being outed by the brotherhood, the tribe. This conditioning is so deeply ingrained that it has been accepted by us all. Men just don't need intimacy beyond a handshake or a brief chat about the footy.

This suppression of femininity in men often means that their feminine qualities, like tenderness and emotion, are outsourced to the women in their lives. It is usually only the partners of men who get to witness and experience the concealed layers of their tenderness. These men cannot afford to reveal these parts of themselves to the world.

I find it curious that even when I searched for images to accompany this article, I had to type "gay men" to find any image of two men touching. It’s unfathomable to even imagine two heterosexual men touching their fingers together—because, in our cultural lens, they must be gay.

I also want to speak to the shame surrounding a man’s anus.

The prostate—the deeply pleasurable, nerve-rich organ nestled in the male body—is full of incredible orgasmic potential. It is a significant erogenous zone. But due to its association with homosexuality, it has been shrouded in shame. This shame has castrated most men from exploring this portal, this deeply pleasurable area of the body. The very notion of anal sex between men has been relegated to the darkest corners—prisons, public toilets, parks.

The mysteries of the base of the body lay dormant.

I want to create spaces that transcend the limiting constructs of gender and sexuality.

Spaces where we first acknowledge and integrate the duality of the masculine and feminine within, and then go beyond this duality to the singularity of the soul that cannot be compartmentalized or split.

From this place, we can share intimacy with other souls—regardless of gender or sexual orientation. There is no “gay” or “straight” in a space of soul connection.

I want to create spaces where men can explore intimacy—whether sexual or platonic—with other men or male-bodied people, without it threatening their sense of masculinity.

I am part of a movement of people creating these kinds of spaces—spaces that challenge the gendered and sexual conditioning of society, allowing the full expression of a person’s authentic self to emerge.

To my heterosexual brothers, I ask you this:

How would you feel if a male friend kissed you? Held your hand? Stroked your arm? Lay down next to you and cuddled?

Would these actions throw your sense of self into question? Would it make you question your sexuality?

Why should intimacy between men be defined by labels like "gay" or "straight"?

Why should it cause you to question your masculinity, your potency, or your power?

Intimacy between men should not be a question of “gay” or “straight.”

It should not throw any doubt on a man’s masculinity.

Intimacy between men is an expression of love—a love that has been stolen from boys, men, and male-bodied people. A love that has been conditioned out of us.

I want to create spaces that give this love back. Spaces where men can reclaim their right to touch, to feel, to express intimacy with one another without fear of rejection or shame. Spaces where the full spectrum of a man’s humanity is celebrated—where the feminine and the masculine are integrated, where the soul is free to connect with other souls.

This is the revolution I want to see.

This is the space I want to help create.