I identify as non-binary trans masc. I also identify as a trans man. Three years ago I started medically transitioning, but like many trans people, I have had a keen eye for gender and what society currently defines as “masculine” or “feminine” because I’ve been studying it for my entire life.

Insecure people tend to walk around and project their own fears onto others. If a cis man doesn’t feel secure about his masculinity, he will assume all men are insecure about their masculinity. This is how insecurity works. Now, what I find fascinating is when cis male insecurity is targeted at me. When a cis man starts up a (figurative or literal) dick-measuring contest with me, I know that he is insecure about his dick. That’s not information I necessarily needed to know, but he felt like sharing with me. In a strange way, he is being vulnerable.

What’s really interesting is that in that moment, the cis man is validating my gender. He is assuming a camaraderie, a shared moment of emotional pain between bros, but instead of trying to connect with me, he attempts to hurt because he is hurting. Instead of a fist bump or a hug he tries to emotionally punch.

But his punches all miss because I don’t get my validation from external sources. I don’t rely on other people to make me feel more secure in my masculinity. I look at myself, what I do and how I express myself, and I know who I am. My role models are dead men in old movies: Cary Grant and Peter Cushing. Vincent Price and James Stewart. Charming, emotionally vibrant men. Sensual, quippy men.

Contemporary masculinity in American media provides such a limited range of role models and expression. You get the detached ironic dude, the weird insecure alpha dude, the soulless NPC who is all about sacrificing himself/dying for a “greater good” – how are any of these identities sustainable? How do they nourish any deeper values or beliefs? How do they make you ultimately happy?

Little secret: they don’t. Irony isn’t a feeling that you can live on indefinitely – it murders from the inside, slowly. Insecurity leaves you in a constant state of fight or flight. And being happy to die means that you waste your life ignoring the joy that’s right in front of you (and makes you a tool for war machines who don’t give a fuck about you).

You know, there’s actually plenty of masculine role models around that aren’t violent and fragile. It might require some research to find ones that resonate with you, but they’re out there. In the quest for personal happiness, and a happier world for all of us, I suggest picking a sturdier model.