This is one of those issues where it feels like I’m just looking on from the sidelines in horror and puzzlement - I know there’s more to it than just choosing to eschew the toxic rat race that is performative masculinity, but it’s so hard for me to get past the thought, “<i>why don’t they just stop being that way</i>, and start making friends who they can open up to?”<p>In all honesty I could call up maybe a dozen different male friends, some of whom I’m not even <i>that</i> close to, or whom I haven’t know for <i>that</i> long, tell them, “hey I’m having a rough time, can we grab a beer and talk later?” And they’d be down. I really don’t think it’s because <i>I’m</i> anyone special - or because they are - even though we clearly are - I just see it as a willingness on my part to ask, as well as presenting myself as a person who it is safe to engage with on that level.<p>What good is being a big strong man, if you’re too weak with worry to open up about your feelings to other men? And how strong can you possibly be if your isolationist stance on platonic relationships prevents you from accessing the support of a network of potential allies? I’m all for self-sufficiency, I’m proud of the degree to which I can take care of things myself - but if anything that just makes me even more confident that when I do reach out for help, it’s not out of weakness, it’s because I’m attempting to do something that’s easier if another person is involved.<p>I helped a buddy install an exhaust fan for his garage the other day - <i>maybe</i> he could have managed it on his own, but it would have been stupidly difficult - two hands made much easier work. It seems so clear to me that you would be stupid not to treat emotional labor the same way - <i>phone a friend</i>, and if you don’t have one, make one, what are you waiting for??<p>It all seems so straight-forward to me that it’s very hard for me to muster up any sympathy for the poor straight men who can’t seem to figure it out.