After last week’s article about toxic masculinity, shame, and sensitivity, I received a few comments from men. There was some relief at being seen and understood, rather than simply judged. One man wrote that he would like to see expectations brought into the discussion, and how men’s repression and lived experience are shaped not only by other men, but also by women’s expectations and the wider social field in which we all grow up.
What I also heard repeatedly were men’s reflections on their relationships with their mothers, particularly when the mother was experienced as emotionally controlling or abusive, or, as one man put it, an example of “toxic femininity”. This prompted me to reflect more deeply on the subject, and on how we are all shaped, often unconsciously, by inherited roles, stereotypes, and expectations.
So, what actually is toxic femininity, and how do we recognise it? According to Healthline, “toxic femininity is a form of internalized misogyny that involves restricting yourself to stereotypically “feminine” behaviours in order to appeal to men.” Like the toxic masculinity traits we discussed last week, this term points to the potentially harmful effects of society’s expectations for women, and the ways these expectations are absorbed, performed, and passed on.
Toxic femininity often shows up through traits that are socially rewarded and even idealised in women: passiveness, selflessness, and nurturance; compliance, submissiveness, or docility; cooperation; sensitivity; politeness; empathy and compassion; and a strong orientation towards home and family.
None of these qualities are inherently negative, of course. The problem arises when women feel compelled to embody them at the expense of their own boundaries, truth, or vitality, or when deviation from them is subtly punished.
For example, a friend of mine was a powerful lawyer in her previous career. She once observed that her male colleagues were not overly interested in her as a woman, even though she is stunningly beautiful and intelligent. She felt this was because she was perceived as “too ambitious”. In their private lives, many of these men seemed to prefer a more nurturing presence, a woman who would look after them, the home, and the children. Someone they did not have to compete with, and who would not challenge them.
In everyday life, toxic femininity often reveals itself in small, familiar moments. A girl is told to “act like a lady” when she speaks up too directly. A woman is repeatedly asked when she plans to have children, as if motherhood were an obligation rather than a choice. Confidence is reframed as “intimidating”, ambition as unfeminine. Women are policed by media and peers alike, whether through comments about their bodies, their grooming, or their conformity to an ever-narrowing ideal of what a “real woman” should look like.
Interestingly, toxic femininity also seems to show up visually when I walk through town these days. I am often struck by how common cosmetic interventions have become among young women: inflated lips, Botox, fillers. These trends appear to reflect a powerful cultural pressure to conform to a narrow ideal of attractiveness. Yet when I speak to male friends about this, many of them say they do not actually find these features appealing.
It would be easy to condemn these behaviours, just as many of us are quick to criticise and judge men for being toxically masculine. But it is worth remembering that all of these behaviours are learned survival strategies. Many women learn to survive, belong, and be valued by shrinking, pleasing, and performing acceptability.
If toxic masculinity grows out of shame and emotional repression, toxic femininity grows out of the fear of being unwanted, unchosen, or unlovable unless one conforms. It is rooted in fears of rejection, abandonment, invisibility, and the loss of love. And while it may look softer than toxic masculinity, it is not harmless. It erodes authenticity, desire, and relational honesty, and it quietly damages everyone involved.
We could go even deeper and examine the role of our primary caregivers, particularly our mothers and fathers, in the formation of these traits. That, however, is a subject in its own right.
Instead, I want to open another discussion. What kind of relational and social world would no longer reward shrinking, pleasing, or self-erasure? What would it look like if women were not punished for desire, ambition, anger, or truth? And how might men and women alike participate in dismantling these expectations?
The question, then, is not what women should do differently, but what we need to stop demanding of them, just as we need to stop demanding that men conform to rigid and damaging ideals.
And the answers to these questions can only come through honest self-reflection, awareness, and clear communication. Are we willing to see our own conditioning, assumptions, expectations, and hidden agendas? Are we willing to listen, really listen, and hold an open heart for the suffering of the opposite gender, and of genders in between? Can we see beyond our own personal and collective pain and triggers, and remain open to understanding “the other side”? And can we find a way forward together?
I believe this is the cultural threshold we are currently standing at. The old is not quite dead, and the new not yet fully born. And the more we talk and write about these dynamics, the more aware we become of the subconscious mechanisms that drive us. In doing so, we can grow freer, as human beings and as a society.
What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
You might also enjoy my recent article Beyond Toxic Masculinity: Shame, Sensitivity, and Healing
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