Dear Men,
I know you are not all the same. So today I pray you remember the boy you once were, the one who played in the rain before the world told you that crying was weakness and that your softness was something to hide. Before anyone convinced you that you were not sacred or safe.
I am sorry you were born into a society that ties your worth to your income, your masculinity to your conquests, and your value to the size of your body instead of the size of your spirit. A world that teaches you to harden your heart, numb your sensitivity, and carry wounds in silence. That must feel lonely. It must feel confusing. It must be exhausting.
I am also sorry for the ways some of us women have added to this weight. The comparisons, the unrealistic expectations, the praise of surface-level traits, the games we learned from our own unhealed places. We were not taught better, but now we can choose better.
I am sorry for how loudly the blame gets thrown at men as a whole when there are so many of you who are showing up, growing, healing, learning, and leading with integrity. Yes, there is still work to be done in this world, yet it remains true that not all men are the same.
You came into this life perfect, whole, sensitive, intuitive, compassionate, loving, and powerful. Real power lives in your presence, not your possessions. Real strength lives in your willingness to feel, not your ability to suppress.
You deserve honor, respect, protection, and gentleness too. I see the brothers who are dismantling old beliefs, even when it terrifies them. The ones treating their bodies like temples. The ones learning that vulnerability is not weakness but a sacred doorway. The ones loving their partners, their sons, their daughters, their mothers, and their communities with clarity and devotion.
Every human being deserves to feel accepted, safe, and deeply loved.
And to all the men doing the inner work, I honor you.