Strong men can be loving too!

Today, I overheard a man telling a young boy that he was “too tender” with a girl, like tenderness was something to be ashamed of, something weak. I couldn’t shake it, because I’ve lived that same lie. I’ve carried it, embraced it, and paid for it in ways that still haunt me.

As a young boy, I was taught—by my uncle’s, my cousin’s, and the culture around me—that being a man meant having many women. Being a player was the goal, the badge of honor. To have one woman? To be tender with her? That was for the soft-hearted, the weak. And I let that false idea shape me, lead me, guide my choices—until those choices shaped my life, and not in the way I imagined.

I think back to my high school love. I was all in. My heart only wanted her—my girl, my wife. That was the dream, the vision I had. But my mind, twisted by the lies I was fed, convinced me otherwise. I walked away from something real to chase an illusion, to be free for women who never showed up. And the one who did? She wasn’t the one. And neither was the next.

I’ve had two children out of wedlock—two children with women I wasn’t in love with. And I paid a price for that. I wasn’t there for them the way I should’ve been. I was physically absent at times and emotionally absent at others, because I wasn’t ready, because I wasn’t in it. I wasn’t tender, I wasn’t soft. And I’ve learned the hard way that my absence didn’t just affect them—it left scars on my soul too.

It’s taken years, but I’ve learned that being a father, being a man, has nothing to do with how many women you can pull, and everything to do with how much love you can give. Love for your children. Love for yourself. Love for the woman who stands beside you, not just the woman who shares your bed.

I reflect on the man I could’ve been. Yes, I am a great man today, but I know I could’ve been a better father, a present father, the kind of dad who doesn’t just leave an imprint but builds a foundation for his kids to stand on. Those opportunities slipped through my fingers because I tried to be the man they told me to be—a player, a hard man, a man who couldn’t show love because he was afraid of being weak.

But now, I tell the next generation something different. I tell them to wait-wait for love, wait for intimacy. Don’t give away your energy, your soul, your future, chasing the approval of people who don’t care. Love has value when it’s sacred, when it’s kept for the right person. Quantity will never beat quality when it comes to love.

Men, be gentle. Be tender. Be the kind of father you wanted for yourself, the kind of man who can hold his head high, not because he has many women, but because he’s loved one with his true heart! Boys need to see men who know how to love, because love, real love, is powerful. And I promise you, love will always command more respect than lust.