A friend hosted a much-needed conversation between men and women, but this time the rules were different. The women were asked to stay silent. Our only role was to listen as the men shared what they wanted us to know.
I thought I knew what I would hear. I was raised by men and assumed I had a solid understanding of how they move through the world. But sitting in silence opened my eyes to truths I had not considered. They spoke of the silence they often keep, the expectations they carry, and the weight of always being expected to perform strength. Again and again, one theme rose to the surface. They want the freedom to make mistakes and still be allowed to grow.
That truth cracked something open in me. As women, we often expect men to show up fully assembled, ready to protect us, ready to lead. We forget that their hearts are just as tender and fragile as ours. One man spoke about patriarchy and the harm it does to them, something I had never thought about in depth. Patriarchy may have been created by and for men, but it has become a machine that harms everyone, especially when it collides with capitalism and the weight of society’s demands.
As I listened, I began to see my own patterns more clearly. I have endured pain in my relationships with men, and as a result, I have unconsciously shut down certain parts of myself. I keep men in the friend zone, even when my heart wants more. I lean on my masculine energy to shield myself. It feels safe, but it also distances me.
I thought about a recent argument with a male friend. It was heated and ended badly. We were both wrong, but I was especially out of line and disrespectful. In the middle of the conflict, it dawned on me that this man truly cares for me, and I care for him too. But by then the damage was already done. In our collision, we broke each other’s hearts. Sitting in silence the other night, I realized how my disconnection has shaped the way I relate to men beyond friendship.
What stood out most in that room was how much men want what we all want—to be heard, acknowledged, and affirmed. It reminded me of my godson when he was little. He would come home bursting to tell me about his day. He wasn’t looking for answers; he just wanted me to listen and celebrate him. Men want that too. One of them gently said, “We’d like to hear the good things too.” I had never thought about that before, but it stayed with me.
I also realized how much I miss consistent male energy in my life. With my father and brother gone, I no longer have the steady guidance and protection they offered. I have male friends, but it is not the same as having men in your life who carry you with a sense of responsibility and care. That absence has left a void.
The experience of being on mute was humbling. It softened me and reactivated something I had closed off. It reminded me that men and women need one another at a deep, cellular level. Not just in romance, but in the way we balance, affirm, and expand each other’s humanity. Together we awaken compassion, empathy, and divinity.
We all have room to grow, but growth requires connection. And sometimes the most powerful way to connect is to be quiet long enough to truly listen.
Still Listening,
Monica Wisdom
Great Job monicaamplified@gmail.com & the Team @ Black Women Amplified: Podcast | Newsletter | Shop | Community for Black Women Source link for sharing this story.
