Being raised by two women saved me from the manosphere

At the tender age of 33, I feel confident in proclaiming that the phrase “You are a product of your environment” feels like one of the truest sayings I have absorbed throughout my life. My father died when I was 17, and the grieving process gifted me the stark realisation of how impermanent life is, which fuelled my desire to hitchhike across the world. That said, my father was an alcoholic long before I was born, and despite being a kind and well-intentioned man, it’s fair to say he was an absent father throughout most of my childhood. When he officially separated from my mother, I was three years old and left in the sole care of my mother and sister. My sister is eight years older than me and she consciously endured a lot more of the chaos than I did with our parents. Some of my earliest memories are her rushing us into the downstairs toilet and rapidly locking the door to avoid the screaming from elsewhere in the house. I’d often refer to my mum and sister as my “two mums” and she had to grow up extremely fast and play a hands-on role in raising me. My mother always had an open-door policy and our home was the hub for all of my sister’s friends. I often describe being raised in a house full of Spice Girls and period talk, which in turn has allowed me to be very comfortable with my feminine side and form a lot of close female friendships. It wasn’t until my early teenage years that I discovered being a straight man and enjoying rom-com movies, reality TV and girl band music was not the “socially accepted” norm. But it was all I knew and I was most certainly a product of my environment. It was truly fascinating to see how clear it was that people’s surroundings and exposures directly shaped their values and belief systems. When travelling in the years after my father’s death, I watched myself and my wife morph and dissolve through multiple versions of ourselves throughout our trip as we weaved through and immersed into a vast range of different communities, spiritual practices and social groups. Now I have a curiosity for life and sense of compassion rooted in the idea everyone is a product of their experiences. I am a self-proclaimed vulnerable man whose activism shows up through verbalising all of my insecurities and struggles online and in my book to show that masculinity and “being a real man” is not what has been sterotypically displayed to us. I cry proudly and regularly which was another gift given to me by my “two mums” growing up. My mum would cry (and still does) when she was happy, sad, at music, at films and when someone won on the TV show Gladiators. Being raised by two women exposed me to so many of the conversations that men don’t often get to hear. When my sister and her friends started going to nightclubs, they would all wake up the next morning at our house and bundle into my mum’s bed to recall the night before. They would fill her in on all the gossip and I would hear them talk about everything from their insecurities to their relationships. I feel grateful that all of that exposure allowed me to understand the female perspective in a way that some men aren’t gifted the privilege to learn. I was indirectly taught to be in awe of women and the power they hold, and see them not only as equal but almost superior for their strength and determination. Particularly in the case of my mother and sister who I view as superheroes for raising me in a way that I never really felt the struggles we were going through.I sometimes wonder how different I would be if I had a solid male role model in my life and definitely spent parts of my childhood “wishing” I was “more of a man”. But with the recent rise of Andrew Tate and the manosphere, I feel nothing but gratitude and pride that I now consider myself “a real man” despite not fitting the masculine stereotype. I don’t say this to in any way suggest I am better than those men who are falling into the incel rabbit hole. In my view, it’s not useful or progressive to simply dismiss these boys as “toxic masculinity”. I can’t help but wonder what experiences both offline and online have led them to seek refuge and community in this way of thinking? And more importantly, what environments have shaped them? I feel I had something of a lucky escape that my father left when he did, and that I grew up instilled with the belief that women should always be respected. Maybe it is that admiration and respect for women that in my eyes makes “a real man”. This week I have been… Reading… I have recently re-read I May Be Wrong by Björn Lindeblad. Björn was a Swedish businessman who left his stable career to become a forest monk in Thailand for 17 years and his teachings have helped me greatly. When he was asked after living the life of a monk for so long what he could offer as his greatest teaching, he replied “I no longer believe everything I think”. This simple sentence helped me greatly through my own struggles with intrusive thoughts and controlling my mind. Bjorn also writes with so much humour and relatability – his version of masculinity feels much closer to my own.Listening… I have been loving the Miss Me? podcast recently. One of the men alongside me was Jordan Stephens who is the co-host of the Miss Me podcast with Miquita Oliver. I love listening to a fellow man be so openly vulnerable, curious and go against the norm of how men are “supposed” to act to be masculine. The podcast for me is the perfect blend of deep and silly, funny and emotional and displays the ability to hold a healthy debate with opposing opinions all for the sake of learning. Watching.. I am currently enjoying the series Alice and Steve, I don’t tend to watch many TV series but this was recommended to me as an easy watch with deep undertones. Alice and Steve are two lifelong best friends in their fifties and their relationship enters a certain turmoil for a reason I won’t give away. What I love in a series, is when there isn’t a clear protagonist and you can’t figure out who you are in favour of, who you sympathise with more, and the evolving change of emotions within what is still a light-hearted comedy drama. Adam’s book is out now Floating Home: Lessons from a life less ordinary (£10.99, Paperback, Bloomsbury Publishing) EXPLORE MORE ON THE TOPICS IN THIS STORY