Men's Liberation
This community is first and foremost a feminist community for men and masc people, but it is also a place to talk about men’s issues with a particular focus on intersectionality.
Rules
Everybody is welcome, but this is primarily a space for men and masc people
Non-masculine perspectives are incredibly important in making sure that the lived experiences of others are present in discussions on masculinity, but please remember that this is a space to discuss issues pertaining to men and masc individuals. Be kind, open-minded, and take care that you aren't talking over men expressing their own lived experiences.
Be productive
Be proactive in forming a productive discussion. Constructive criticism of our community is fine, but if you mainly criticize feminism or other people's efforts to solve gender issues, your post/comment will be removed.
Keep the following guidelines in mind when posting:
- Build upon the OP
- Discuss concepts rather than semantics
- No low effort comments
- No personal attacks
Assume good faith
Do not call other submitters' personal experiences into question.
No bigotry
Slurs, hate speech, and negative stereotyping towards marginalized groups will not be tolerated.
No brigading
Do not participate if you have been linked to this discussion from elsewhere. Similarly, links to elsewhere on the threadiverse must promote constructive discussion of men’s issues.
Recommended Reading
- The Will To Change: Men, Masculinity, And Love by bell hooks
- Politics of Masculinities: Men in Movements by Michael Messner
Related Communities
!feminism@beehaw.org
!askmen@lemmy.world
!mensmentalhealth@lemmy.world
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Tough read.
Good stuff.
It's hard to understand why reactionaries seem to think that anyone would want to be trans- if they had any choice in the matter at all.
It's the only way to defeat the labrenthine security measures that keep people from going into the wrong bathroom.
I remember once at a Cracker Barrel shortly after we had our first kid, my wife was in the ladies' room trying to change a bad, bad diaper. We were expecting a 3 Mile Island, but this was Chernobyl. She hollered for help.
I panicked for a moment but remembered my training. I only just made it past the cross-cutting grid of lasers using some parkour, the riddle guards where one always lies, and the other always tells the truth, and the spike pits with swinging vines over them. I definitely don't remember just fast-walking in there, eyes to the floor, loudly apologizing to nobody in particular.
Once containment and remediation were complete, we enjoyed our meal without incident. The child was especially fond of apple butter.
If I had known I could have avoided all that by simply attending decades of therapy, being abandoned by my family, going through painful binding, and multiple reconstructive surgeries which I had to save up for and purchase myself because they weren't covered by insurance and taking handfuls of pills everyday to try and regulate my hormone levels for some semblance of peace if a body I knew wasn't actually mine...man that would have saved me so much work.