The Crisis with Boys and Men is Real

But blaming women won’t solve it.

There’s a lot of conversation happening right now about the well being of boys and men, and rightfully so.

Many of us are worried. I know that I am incredibly worried as a mother to a son.

We’re watching boys fall behind in school. We’re seeing young men disappear into loneliness, disengagement, and YouTube spirals. We’re watching the fathers and husbands we love begin to echo the talking points of Red Pill creators and “men’s rights” influencers.

As women I think many of us are scared.

We are reading the books. We are bringing it up in therapy. We are following the experts and trying to understand how to help. We are researching how to raise emotionally healthy boys, how to connect with distant partners, how to protect our kids from harmful online rhetoric.

We are doing the work, because we care.

But women cannot be the only ones trying to hold families and relationships together while the loudest voices online tell men that women are the enemy.

And while women are concerned and they want to help boys and men, they don’t want it to come at the expense of women.

Right now, the dominant narrative online., the one getting the loudest microphone and the most viral clips, is not one of care or compassion or healing.

It’s one of blame.
It’s telling men that they’re struggling because of women.
Because of feminism.
Because women have standards.
Because their wife asked them to pick up more of the mental load at home.

And now, we’re seeing a growing narrative that says women just don’t care about men. That we’re cold. Selfish. Indifferent.

But that’s where the disconnect lies.

Because in real life, most women I know are desperate to make it work.
They do care. Deeply. And they especially care about their sons.
They’re worried about what kind of world their boys are growing up in, and what messages they’re absorbing about manhood, relationships, and worth. They’re not out to destroy men, they’re just exhausted from carrying too much. They’re asking men to meet them at the table, not to be perfect, but to show up.

They want partnership. They want connection. They want to thrive together.

The online narrative is dangerous.
It’s harmful to women and to men.
It drives a wedge between partners who want to love each other.
It builds resentment instead of connection.
It keeps men and boys isolated instead of offering tools for growth and healing.

It is concerning how different these conversations sound online versus in real life.

There’s a growing movement of men leaning hard into traditionalism, aligning with patriarchal values, and drifting toward the far right. Men are being pulled into spaces that tell them women are the enemy.

That’s the divide we’re watching grow in real time:
Women asking for equity.
Men responding with blame.

This week, I posted about something I talk about often, the mental load. I shared how exhausting it is to carry the full cognitive weight of family life, and how simple questions like “What should I make for dinner?” can feel like pressure when you’ve already made dozens of decisions that day.

And in response, I received a comment that said:

“If she’s struggling to figure out what to make for dinner, get her therapy.”

The person who left that comment runs a page dedicated to raising awareness about issues that pertain to boys and men. A page that claims to care about men’s mental health.

And yet, when a woman shared her burnout, the only response was to pathologize her.
Not listen.
Not reflect.
Not build understanding.
Just shut her down.

And this is the problem.

You cannot advocate for men’s emotional well-being while simultaneously dismissing the emotional experiences of women. You cannot build a better future for boys while teaching them to blame girls. You cannot create connection while promoting division. This online narrative is one of the reasons why this conversation feels so fraught.

Because women are showing up in their homes and in their partnerships, saying,

“I love you. I’m tired. I need more from you.”
And the response is: “You’re crazy. You need help.”

It’s an old tactic with a modern face. Blaming women for reacting to the unfair distribution of labor, while pretending the problem is her inability to cope.

This is why I talk about gender equity.
Not just in the workplace. Not just in politics.
But at the dinner table. In our marriages. In our parenting.

Because at the core, this isn’t just a culture war. It’s a relational breakdown.
And if we don’t figure out how to come back to the table, together, we’re all going to lose.

I still have hope though.

Because I know there are men out there who do see what’s happening.
Men who recognize the loneliness epidemic.
Men who understand that the rise in mental health struggles among boys is not just a women’s issue to solve.
Men who are building something better.

Recently, I came across the Brooklyn Stroller Club. And I have to tell you: it’s amazing. This is a group of dads coming together to support one another through the parenting journey. They’re creating community. They’re showing up. They’re reminding each other that being a father means more than just bringing home a paycheck. It means care, connection, vulnerability, and presence.

This is what boys and men need.
They need friendship.
They need support.
They need spaces where they can be seen and held without shame.
They need to know that what they can provide goes far beyond money.

And we all benefit when they have that.

The truth is: women can’t fix this crisis.
They didn’t cause it.
They’ve been screaming into the void about disconnection, burnout, and the emotional cost of modern relationships for decades.

Men have to fix this problem.
They have to look inward and to one another.
They have to build real community and talk honestly about what it means to be a man outside of patriarchal standards. They have to stop waiting for women to carry the emotional weight of the relationship and the cultural reckoning.

We need a new narrative.
One where we can care about men’s mental health without scapegoating women.
One where we talk about boys falling behind without blaming girls for rising.
One where equity in a marriage isn’t treated like a threat, but a lifeline.

We’re at a cultural tipping point.
If we keep pulling further apart, if we keep blaming instead of building, we all lose.
But if we choose to come together, to listen, to take responsibility, to share the load, then maybe there’s a better future waiting for us.

That’s what I believe.
That’s what I’m fighting for.
And I know I’m not alone.