Julia Arboleda

Welcome to The Intimacy Recession

 

In bleak conversations with my girl friends recently, it seems to all of us that there are “no good men” out in the world. By “good men,” I don’t mean good-looking guys, although those too seem to be far-and-few between. I don’t mean “smart men,” although, again, they also appear to have gone MIA. By “good men,” I certainly don’t mean your thirty-year old coworker who plays Luke Combs on shift. The one who wears a gold cross chain around his neck, preaching that he is waiting for a “pure woman,” only to go home and indulge in endless hours of pornography and microwaveable pizza-pockets.

 

I’ve become aware over the last few years of a phenomenon known as the “Male Loneliness Epidemic,” although I’m wary to affirm that name given how much it seems like it’s projecting the issue onto everyone except the men themselves. But to a certain extent, it’s true. The forces of the patriarchy seep into about every facet of the female mind, but if there is a damsel in distress, there must also be a hero to save her. And so is born the male juxtaposition to women: someone strong, stoic, and courageous. By today’s standards, he also has a chiseled jaw and six-pack to go along with his honorable traits, but that’s a conversation for another time.

 

I’ve had enough conversations with my guy friends to know that most of them aren’t actually living these stoic, emotionally self-sufficient lives - they’re just performing them. When I ask who they talk to about anything real, they usually say something like, “I don’t know… maybe one or two people?” And even then, it’s never about the things that actually matter. One friend told me he’s known his best friend for fifteen years, but they’ve never once talked about heartbreak, fear, or anything that might require them to look up from their beers. Another admitted that the only time he’s opened up to another guy was when they were drunk, and even then it was wrapped in jokes and promptly ignored the next morning. It’s not a lack of depth, just a lack of practice.

 

Meanwhile, my girlfriends are sitting across from me at dinner saying things like, “He’s nice, but I don’t know anything about what he feels,” or “It’s like talking to a wall,” or “I can’t be the only emotional outlet he has.” And it’s not because women expect men to gush their entire inner world by date three, they just want evidence that an inner world exists, and that he’s willing to share it. The contrast is jarring: women speak to each other with emotional fluency nearly every week, while many of the men they date haven’t had a vulnerable conversation with a friend since high school, if ever.

 

And when men don’t have anyone to talk to except the person they’re dating, it becomes a pressure cooker. They misinterpret independence as rejection, preference as insult, boundaries as disrespect. Without emotional language or emotional support, the slightest shift feels like a personal attack. They ask, “Why don’t women need us anymore?” when the real question is, “Why were we taught that being needed was our only value?”

 

This, unsurprisingly, leads to anger. Not always loud or violent, sometimes it’s quiet, defensive, self-pitying. It’s the gym-obsessed guy who’s convinced women have “unrealistic standards,” while refusing to examine why he has none for himself beyond physical strength. It’s the coworker who claims dating is “rigged” but can’t name the last time he asked a friend for help. It’s the well-intentioned boyfriend who genuinely loves his partner but cannot cry in front of her, even though he knows she’d be there for him.

 

The “male loneliness epidemic” is a broad-reaching byproduct of centuries of social conditioning that has placed the emphasis on a man’s ability to dominate in labor, control, and utility. When automation takes jobs, when women no longer rely on men financially, and when real intimacy requires emotional fluency instead of economic stability, the system short-circuits. It is something that has caused much conflict within myself, not knowing when to be empathetic, and not knowing when to override that knee-jerk reaction most women have to be empathetic, and hold men accountable. How do you tell a generation of men who already feel rejected that they need to do better? That they’re shooting themselves in the feet?

 

Come find the answer with me in my brand-new column The Intimacy Recession, where I bring you articles every week discussing the gender landscape today, the opinions surrounding it, and even a bit of the science behind it too!