Political commentator, author, former feminist activist, and recently appointed U.S. State Department spokesperson Tammy Buce, is known for her shift from liberal to conservative views. When she first appeared in George Magazine in their April/May 1996 issue, it was post-Oj Simpson, she was wreaking havoc, and the media hated her for it. The debate over the Simpson trial that solely focused on racism led Bruce to speak up about domestic violence. “What we need to teach our children is not about racism but about violence against women,” says a mother who spoke out against the issue involving the trials where a woman was brutally murdered. The main suspect—let off the hook. Her effort to bring awareness to domestic violence was a “needed break from all the talk about racism,” Bruce tells the Los Angeles Times. Since that statement, the National Organization of Women (NOW), the feminist organization Bruce was formerly president of for their LA branch, has disassociated themselves from Bruce.
Feminism started as something powerful—about equality, freedom, and having a voice. But somewhere along the line, it lost the plot. What was once about empowerment turned into control. It became toxic, exclusive, and obsessed with being right instead of doing what’s right. The same pride and unhealed trauma ruining relationships today are the same things rotting the core of what feminism used to be.
In recent years, George Magazine released an article in their second issue in November 2022. The article, Toxic Masculinity, goes on to explain that masculinity itself isn’t toxic, but traditional masculine traits, such as strength, protection, and leadership, are. While men and women are naturally different by design, weakening men does not empower women. While both genders can be strong without demonizing one another, society and liberals label masculinity as “toxic” while brushing over normal male behavior. While the feminist battle for equal rights should not condone demonizing men for embracing their traditional roles, true unity comes from respecting and valuing the unique strengths of both men and women.
The word “toxic” gets thrown around so much, it’s started to blur the lines between real abuse and typical male behavior. However, that’s not to say that there are definitely people in toxic situations/relationships and are treated poorly. The point is that there are just too many people saying they are abused when in reality, they just get into arguments or disagreements. Conversations will sometimes get loud because lets be real, love isn’t really quiet. What’s important is knowing when things are just loud and when things get too far over the edge. Feminism was never meant to demonize men for embracing traditional roles—it was about equality, not erasing masculinity. Real unity doesn’t come from shaming each other. It comes from recognizing and respecting the different strengths men and women bring to the table.
Yes, toxicity exists—and it’s not gender-specific. It’s everywhere. But the real question is: why? Why do we keep repeating the same cycles? Is it how we were raised? The people we surround ourselves with? Somewhere, there’s always a root. And real growth starts when you’re willing to find it, face it, and change it.
So, where does it all go wrong? Hate. That’s where. Hatred festers in silence—in childhood homes, in school hallways, and in failed relationships. Sometimes it’s loud, sometimes it’s quiet. But it’s always damaging. The words we say, the pain we project—it doesn’t matter if you feel “justified.” Hate only shrinks your own worth. That anger you’re directing at your ex, your coworker, or your sibling—maybe it’s really just you fighting with yourself. And the scariest part? Most people don’t even realize they’re doing it.
If you don’t know Hannah Neelman… well, buckle up. She’s the woman who walked onto the Mrs. America stage, spoke about loving her role as a wife and mother of seven, and triggered a full-blown identity crisis in modern feminism. Why? Because she had the audacity to say she finds joy in raising kids and making sourdough. That’s it. No controversial tweet, no scandal—just a woman living her truth, and somehow, that truth rubbed other women the wrong way. The same women who scream “choice” and “empowerment” were the first to crucify her for choosing a life that didn’t look like theirs.
Funny, isn’t it? The movement built on supporting women’s freedom turned around and dragged a woman for being… free. If feminism doesn’t make space for every kind of woman—even the ones in aprons with flour on their hands—then maybe the problem isn’t her lifestyle. Maybe it’s the movement forgetting what it was built for. But let’s not pretend men don’t have their own version of the problem.
Male toxicity toward each other is its own brand of quiet destruction. It’s the unspoken rulebook they pass down: don’t feel too much, don’t talk too much, don’t care too much. God forbid a man admits he’s lonely or depressed—he’ll get laughed at, called weak, told to “man up.” So instead, they bottle it. They compete, they compare, and they shame each other into silence. And that silence? That’s where the real damage brews.
According to a 2021 study published in The Journal of Counseling Psychology, men who strongly conform to traditional masculine norms—especially emotional suppression—are more likely to experience depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. Yet they’re less likely to seek help. Why? Because they’ve been groomed to see vulnerability as failure. And when that internal pressure builds with nowhere to go, it turns into anger, addiction, or numbness. If a man can’t be emotionally honest around other men, how is he ever supposed to be emotionally present in a relationship? Which leads to the next domino.
Men bring that emotional disconnection into relationships—often without realizing it. They don’t talk; they shut down. Or worse, they lash out. Not always because they’re cruel, but because no one ever taught them how to handle discomfort—just how to hide it. A 2020 meta-analysis in Personality and Social Psychology Review found that emotional intelligence directly correlates with healthier, more stable romantic partnerships. But guess who’s been socially conditioned to suppress emotional intelligence from a young age? You guessed it.
Take Adolescence on Netflix. There’s this moment where Adam opens up to his friends. He lets the guard down, says he’s feeling lost—unsure of what the hell he’s doing with his life. And what does he get? Laughed at. Punched in the arm. Hit with the classic “quit being a p****” line like it’s some rite of passage. That right there? That’s male toxicity in its most casual, everyday form. Guys are raised to believe emotions are embarrassing. That softness makes you weak. So instead of learning how to process shit, they bury it, laugh it off, and turn it into a joke. Until one day it’s not funny anymore—because that bottled-up silence turns into rage, or a drinking problem, or total emotional numbness in their relationships. And they wonder why everything feels off. This isn’t just some TV moment—it’s real life for a lot of men.
Then there’s the kid in Adolescence who kills someone. It doesn’t come out of nowhere—it’s the end result of years of silence, rage, and trying to act tougher than he feels. No one ever asked him how he was doing, just told him to man up, stay hard, and keep it together. That murder wasn’t sudden—it was built, brick by brick, by a world that taught him emotions were weakness and violence was power. And that’s the reality for a lot of boys. They’re not snapping—they’re sinking.
That creates a chain reaction: women feel emotionally abandoned, men feel misunderstood, resentment builds, and the cycle repeats. Not because they’re bad people—but because they’re carrying unhealed versions of themselves into rooms love was never meant to fix.
Toxicity doesn’t wear one face. It wears everyone’s face. And the only way to stop it is by getting real about where it comes from—then doing the work to be better than what raised you. Better than what broke you. Because healing isn’t just some Instagram quote—it’s a choice. A hard one. But a necessary one.
So here’s the art of not being a jerk: heal yourself so you don’t bleed on the people who didn’t cut you.
