I live and work in a mining town – the kind of place where the utes are big, the talk is bigger, and vulnerability is treated like a foreign language. On the surface, it’s all toughness and alpha bloke energy: men who can work twelve-hour shifts in brutal heat, operate million-dollar machinery, and still make it to the pub before dark.
But in my practice, behind closed doors, I see the truth.
And it’s not arrogance. It’s fragility.
The Mask of Masculinity
Day after day, men walk into my room carrying the weight of everything they’ve been told they’re not allowed to feel.
They tell me they’re angry – but really, they’re lonely.
They say they’re tired – but really, they’re empty.
They talk about “stress at work,” when what they actually mean is grief, shame, fear of failure.
These are men who were never taught the language of emotion. They learned early that strength meant silence, that softness was weakness, that being seen was dangerous.
So they build armour – out of work, status, big trucks, and even louder talk.
But that armour doesn’t protect them. It isolates them.
Manners as a Mirror
When I talk about the loss of manners, I’m not talking about forgetting to say please or thank you.
I’m talking about the erosion of respect – the ability to see beyond your own discomfort and treat others with empathy.
Real manners come from self-awareness. From knowing how your words land, how your energy shifts a room, and how your insecurity drives your behaviour.
But when a man’s entire emotional education has been “toughen up,” he can’t access that part of himself.
So what comes out instead is defensiveness – control, sarcasm, entitlement, sometimes outright misogyny.
It’s not strength. It’s fear in disguise.
The Privilege of Seeing Behind the Curtain
In my work, I have the privilege of seeing what most people don’t.
I see the cracks under the surface – the shame behind the arrogance, the grief under the aggression, the little boy still trying to prove he’s enough.
It’s humbling, honestly.
Because beneath the noise and the ego, there’s pain – deep, unspoken, generational pain.
Most of these men were never shown what care looks like, never taught to soothe themselves, never given permission to fail.
So they lash out – at the world, at women, at anything that reflects back the vulnerability they’re running from.
Women Are Rising
But something’s shifting.
Women are rising – and they’re demanding more.
More respect.
More accountability.
More emotional depth from the men around them.
A friend of mine recently ran a little social experiment at our local shopping centre.
She noticed how a certain style of man – the kind who walks with a puffed chest and eyes that never soften – would constantly barge past her trolley.
No eye contact. No courtesy. Just this quiet assumption that she’d move.
So she decided not to. She held her space.
And what happened was fascinating.
Time and time again, these men became visibly uncomfortable – irritated even – as if her simple refusal to yield challenged something deep in them.
It was as though her stillness, her quiet claim to space, exposed a fragility they spend their lives trying to hide.
It’s such a small act, but it speaks volumes about power and entitlement – and how deeply threatened some men still feel when women simply stop moving out of the way.
Reclaiming Respect
What we call “manners” is really emotional maturity in motion – the ability to pause, to listen, to recognise the humanity in someone else.
That’s what’s missing.
Not because men are heartless, but because they’re hurt.
Until we start having honest conversations about that hurt – without judgement, without ridicule – the cycle keeps spinning:
The tough act.
The aggression.
The loneliness.
The shame.
Women are standing taller now, refusing to shrink so men can feel big. And that’s uncomfortable – but it’s very necessary.
Because true strength isn’t in how loud you are or how hard you work.
It’s in how gently you treat others when no one’s watching.
That’s what manners are.
And it’s time we remembered.