Are we justified in our man-hating?
Misandry has become increasingly popular online in recent years, but is our hatred of men impacting our relationships with those we love? Honey Wyatt finds out
Among female friends, simply uttering “men” (like it’s a dirty word) is enough to convey a multitude of complex grievances. Whether you’ve known each other for a lifetime, or just met on a drunken night out, you share an inherent understanding of what it is to be a woman and the disappointments and heartbreaks that have come with that, often at the hands of men.
From the small everyday occurrences (like being mansplained to or talked over) to the large (like being cheated on by long term boyfriends or harassed on the way home), there is an automatic cognisance that any disparaging comments made about men have been earned through a lifetime of experience.
Nothing needs to be explained. But sometimes this fluency builds into an echo chamber, where the stories we tell each other about our terrible dating experiences begin to merge into one; the wrongs that have been enacted upon us by men (and re-lived through countless retellings) become synonymous with our opinion towards the entire male population.
It’s easy to become cynical, especially when all of this is amplified by what we see on social media. Not just the Andr*w Tates and Jrdan Pet*rsons of the world, but the response to that, so far in that it’s become normal to “hate men” online; videos with the #misandristtok and #misandrist have a joint 22.6 million views on TikTok. Celebrities do it, too: in her recent lie detector test interview with Vanity Fair, Julia Fox shamelessly laughs off being caught out for lying about hating men.
Reinforcement of our misandry is everywhere you look. It’s become part of an extremely twisted joke that makes light of what is ultimately a dire situation. Men hate women? They can hate them just as much back. Disrespect? They’ve got centuries of resentment to shoot right back.
“You trust these particular men to surpass your lowest expectation and, by proxy of knowing you – a woman – to put some effort into understand experiences that aren’t their own”
It’s all fun and games in the name of justice: “I believe that we should no longer be afraid to say and live our misandries. Hating men and everything they represent is our right,” writes Pauline Harmange in I Hate Men (or, Moi les hommes, je les déteste) that was nearly banned in France upon its release in 2020. “Misandry and misogyny cannot be compared, quite simply because the former exists only in reaction to the latter.”
But what happens when you go home to your boyfriend, or your flatmate; call your dad or visit your grandad, and you remember some of the people you love and trust most in the world are themselves men? “I feel strongly we should be allowed to not love them as a whole and make exceptions for certain men,” Harmange told The Guardian in a 2020 interview.
Being in the exceptions’ company, though, complicates your penchant for making throwaway misandrist comments. You trust these particular men to surpass your lowest expectations, and, if you’re in the business of wanting to date them, you might not want to talk shit about their kind to them (unless they’re into that).
You also expect these men, by proxy of knowing you – a woman – to put some effort into understanding experiences that aren’t their own. This discrepancy is something Lola*, 22 (she/her) notices in her relationship. While her current boyfriend “definitely cares” when she talks about women’s negative experiences with men, she explains that “there’s a bit of me that’s like ‘no you don’t’ just because he’s not a woman”.
Her last relationship ended because of conversations they had about feminism. While he did “all the stereotypically really nice boyfriend things” for the first six months of their relationship, he soon started making vaguely misogynistic comments that she would silently note.
Then one night it all came to a head when they got into a big argument. “He was saying he wouldn’t want to go out with a girl with a high body count because ‘girls with a high body count don’t have a good personality’,” she remembers. While he didn’t see the argument as a big deal, after speaking through the argument with her friends she was able to gain some perspective on why it mattered to her.
“[Defending women] is literally my most important view that I have that you’re attacking and that you don’t agree with, there’s nothing that’s going to change that.” Though he later apologised, Lola notes that “was kind of the beginning of the end for [them]”.
Looking at how this has impacted her relationship with her current boyfriend, she notes that it can be quite triggering if he doesn’t understand the female experience, though this is a rare occurrence. This recently caused some tension when she felt the need to clarify her rant about men (after learning a friend’s long-term boyfriend had cheated on her) wasn’t aimed at him.
“At this point you’ve got enough information to educate yourself so I don’t feel that compassionate, sort it out”
“We actually got into a bit of a fight about it because he was like: ‘Yeah, I know’ and I said ‘No, I’m trying to tell you that I’m not trying to hate the whole male species, just what being a man represents and the toxic masculinity associated with it, rather than attacking you’.
But he’s very supportive and he’s like ‘I’m here to back up what you’re saying’.”
Having a partner who meets her expectations can sometimes make her second guess whether they’re reasonable. But having male friends who do try to educate themselves about other people’s lives means that she has a better understanding of where the bar should be.
“At this point you’ve got enough information to educate yourself, so I don’t feel that compassionate, I’m like, sort it out. I feel like I had so much sympathy for my first two boyfriends and now I’m like what’s your excuse?”
“I just cannot make a proper connection with a guy because they all want to be part of some club, and there’s no room for compromise of what a man could be”
Charlie, 23 (he/they) feels a similar frustration with men not educating themselves, which impacts his friendships. “I started avoiding men when I got to university,” they say. “I think the way men socialise is what really puts me off; I hated every interaction I had with a guy.”
Most times, they would go to the pub with a male friend, have a beer or two. As they drank more, the conversations would veer from shallow into what can only be described as trauma dumping. “It would be fun the first few times because, ok, alcohol does make a good ice breaker.
“But when you’re so emotionally stumped that you can only talk to me about anything while you’re tipsy or drunk (and therefore non-sensical), it’s really selfish in a way. A guy will get drunk and start complaining to you about their feelings they can’t process. It just makes me really sad to see.”
Choosing not to engage in this meant that they found it difficult to form friendships with men: “I just cannot make a proper connection with a guy because they all want to be part of some club, and there’s no room for compromise of what a man could be.”
While at university, especially, conversations revolved around their sex lives, and seldom discussed the emotions involved. “They’ve just so obviously watched too much porn and now everything is so objectified, with most guys anyway,” Charlie explains, and this translates into their “shitty" opinions on politics and feminism.
“I think it’s caused me some gender dysmorphia, so that’s why I made my pronouns he/they, because I just felt so disconnected [from that].” Instead, being friends with mostly non-male people, they hear how this behaviour has very real consequences on their lives.
“I fully understand man-hating, because even the small things, like those micro aggressions, which do build up over a lifetime, that’s going to cause trauma. I think in most contexts it’s fully acceptable to say ‘I hate men’ and then in some ways never get over it, because those things are traumatic.”
“While you might have had negative experiences, believing that all men are bad might not necessarily be true”
But if you’re looking for a romantic relationship with a man, focusing on the negative can sometimes prevent you from finding a partner, says international dating expert, Kimberly Anderson.
A client came to her because she didn’t trust men and thought they “served no purpose”. After working together for a while, it became clear that this was a form of self sabotage.
“She would reject men before they would even have a chance with her, she would create all kinds of barriers,” Anderson explains. This made her “her own worst enemy” when it came to dating.
“There’s a lot of warped perceptions, sadly, in terms of views of men and what one believes creates the reality,” observes Anderson. While you might have had negative experiences, believing that all men are bad might not necessarily be true and could prevent you from forming connections with them. “It’s unfortunate because there are plenty of men out there that are looking for lasting, deep, satisfying relationships.”
For those who seek intimate connections to men, but think there aren’t any men who will fulfil their expectations, Anderson recommends looking at what beliefs you might subconsciously hold about men or dating and writing them down.
It’s then about asking questions to figure out where this belief comes from and whether it’s true: “Why do I hold this belief? Is this something society has given me, or my family has given me, or have I been through an experience? And does that experience represent the whole population? Is that realistic? It probably isn’t.
“Look for examples of positive behaviours in men and attributes that are out there, because what we focus on is what is amplified.”
When news and social media constantly reaffirms their fears about men, it is understandable that women would place more weight on negative examples of male behaviour, thus influencing who they choose to get into relationships with.
Man hating might be a positive spin on our shared experiences as women, and a way of figuring out our standards, but misandry doesn’t have to come at the expense of those we love, or could love. Sometimes, there just could be an exception.
*name has been changed