Why do we shame our soft boys and our quiet ones?
The boys who stand with their mothers in kitchens instead of sitting with their fathers in front of the TV.
The ones who are gentle with their love and their hands. The ones who don’t care to throw a ball, or play swords with sticks. The boys who prefer to read, or chat, or none of the above.
The ones who can say “I feel” without cowering beneath the disapproving glare of masculinity.
Why do we yell, “Be a man!” at children who are barely out of diapers, forcing tears back into their eyes by telling them not to be babies, not to be little girls, not to be soft.
What are we afraid of when we ask a four-year-old if he has a girlfriend and he says “No” very definitively.
Why do we ask him…
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