This is a Man's World

Since becoming an “adult,” I’ve found that I actually love reading. It started before I had kids, one summer when I snagged a $2 book—The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Since then, I’ve become a bit of a bookworm and grown with my reading. Every year, I pick at least one book that challenges me—mostly in my beliefs or views of the world.

A few years ago, I read The Boy Crisis by Warren Farrell and John Gray. At the time, I was searching for parenting books to help navigate the preteen years and beyond, and this one called to me like something out of a wizard movie. So, I bought it. It’s written by two men with PhDs. I wouldn’t call it a light read or even a great parenting book—it was long, heavy, and often difficult to get through. Not just because of the sobering studies it shares, but also because parts of it genuinely rubbed me the wrong way.

I could say I agreed with the authors to an extent—I understood their viewpoints and respected the research—but some of the conclusions made me angry. At times, it felt like the book was making excuses for men who choose not to show up as great husbands, fathers, or partners. Still, as the title implies, there is a crisis among boys today, and it’s a problem society is clearly grappling with. Men are choosing not to get married, not to parent, not to engage—and this book gets to the heart of why.

What frustrated me most—though it’s been echoed in other books and studies—was the assertion that the rise of empowered women somehow triggered the crisis in boys. That when girls were told, you can be anything, the decline in boys’ outcomes began.

As a woman who grew up hearing that empowering message, I was annoyed that this could be the “reason” men are failing. The boys I grew up with were sitting right next to me. They heard those same words. But the message wasn’t the same. This book challenged me. Good Lord, it challenged me. I realized that while girls were told they could be anything and be mothers too, boys were still being told they could be anything—but with an asterisk. Their value was still tied to financial success. It was never, you can do it all, like it was for us.

It clicked. I remembered a moment in elementary school when we each shared what we wanted to be when we grew up. I, like every typical ’90s kid, said “marine biologist”—thank you, Lisa Frank and SeaWorld (pre-Blackfish). One girl said, “I just want to be a mom,” and was praised. But no boy said, “I want to be a dad.”

While I still don’t love that this could be a reason for what men have become today, shame on society for not praising men and women equally. Isn’t that what the feminist movement was started for? Anyway, off my soapbox for feminism and anything that might cause debate over a silly blog post; which is starting to sound like a D- book report at this point.

One thing that stuck with me from the research: families that talked about different life paths and prioritized connection had kids who were less likely to turn to drugs or disengage from family life. And while I see the crisis this book highlights, especially among some of my single male peers, I’m also witnessing a quiet revolution among the men in my life.

Most of my circle includes men who are actively defying the statistics. Many grew up with the kind of dads The Boy Crisis describes—distant, angry, or absent—and have chosen to break that cycle. I know doctors who move surgeries to attend their child’s baseball games. Friends who’ve taken jobs with odd—or sometimes awful overnight—hours just to ensure they’re home for school mornings and nighttime routines. I have male friends that have declined job offers, due to less flexibility. I now know more men with full custody of their children than women. I know men in the military who FaceTime their kids every night from overseas. One of my friends quit his job when told he only got two weeks of paternity leave—and started a business from home so he could be there. Men are choosing less traditional 9–5 jobs and choosing presence instead. 

These men are built different. And I’m here for it.

Looking back, I had a great role model for what a man should be. Those who know my dad know how awesome he was and is. When my sister and I got into cheerleading, he signed up to be the coach—even though he had no idea what he was doing, he did it for years anyway. I’m pretty sure those were some of his favorite years. We were together as a family all the time, and looking back, I think those were some of the happiest years.

I have since married and grown up. I married someone with traits similar to my dad’s but, as I mentioned earlier, in a less traditional role. My husband is a stay-at-home parent. While this wasn’t exactly by choice but rather forced upon us due to health reasons, we both agree that this is exactly where he needs to be. According to research, he’s not alone—now, 1 in 5 stay-at-home parents are dads, roughly 2.1 million men stepping into a role that barely existed when we were growing up. More and more, men are choosing to be present with their families, creating flexible careers or supporting their partners as the primary earners. Even couples without kids are prioritizing their relationships in ways we haven’t seen before.

So, while The Boy Crisis frustrated me, it also opened my eyes. It made me reflect—not just on society’s failures, but on the subtle but powerful change happening all around me. The men I know are showing up. They’re leading with vulnerability, with heart, with a deep commitment to their families. Whether they’re in charge of school drop offs and pick ups, reading bedtime stories over FaceTime, or proudly owning the stay-at-home parent title, they are challenging outdated expectations and rewriting the rules.

We still have a long way to go. But the narrative is shifting. Maybe not everywhere. Maybe not fast enough. But it is shifting.

Men are choosing to show up differently. They’re building a world that looks less traditional—but far more intentional. And to me, that feels like progress.