It is only natural for human beings to love and to be loved. As simple as loving a worn-out pillow that has lingered since childhood, or being cherished by a small, furred creature whose only instinct is to eat. Yet humans are neither inanimate objects nor mindless beings. They are complex, dynamic, and often arrogant.
To love is not as effortless as the bird’s dance to entice a mate, nor as instinctive as the butterfly’s wings releasing pheromones into the air. Human love demands more. It demands wealth, beauty, and luxury—not as a law of nature, but as an imposition of culture. Within the machinery of capitalism, love is no longer pure affection but a transaction, a performance, an image.
Amid such frustration emerges an anomaly of thought, one that oversimplifies the human condition. It sustains structural violence while romanticizing patriarchy. This is what TikTok content creators parade under the shimmering labels of feminine energy and masculine energy.
The narrative reduces critical thought into a formula for securing a partner, never pausing to ask what such rigid roles might cost the individuals trapped within them.
Their advice often sounds like hollow incantations, selling the illusion of wealthy men and beautiful women as the ultimate prize:
“If you want to attract a masculine man, you must embody feminine energy.”
“Give him space to be masculine and don’t do things. Just bring your feminine energy to the table.”
“The way to keep him from cheating is simply to offer trust and space.”
“Woman, I hate to say this to you, but… it is precisely these kinds of women who end up with provider men, carrying designer bags, and living a lavish life. Loving and providing for a man is exhausting—you’ll only end up cheated on, demeaned, and unappreciated.”
Before diving deeper into this critique, it is worth asking: what exactly do people mean when they talk about masculine and feminine energy? If you were hoping for a definition backed by academic research or psychological theory, prepare to be disappointed. The truth is far less impressive: these so-called “energies” are little more than cultural myths dressed up as self-help wisdom.
According to cxoxmedia.id, masculine energy as structured, logical, and goal-driven — predictable in its movements, firm in its decisions. Feminine energy, in contrast, is portrayed as fluid, emotional, and guided by intuition rather than reason. At first glance, this might sound poetic. In reality, it is nothing more than a recycled stereotype, the kind our ancestors already lived by long before motivational blogs tried to repackage it as enlightenment.
The problem is not simply that these categories are simplistic; it is that they shrink human possibility. By tying identity and behavior to rigid notions of “male” and “female” essence, they reinforce the very patriarchal boundaries that feminism has spent decades trying to dismantle.
And when these ideas are amplified through social media content — framed as relationship “tips” or a path to luxury and validation — they become outright toxic. What is marketed as wisdom for love and self-discovery is, in fact, a script of submission and control, recycled endlessly by influencers chasing clicks.
Now, here’s the uncomfortable truth: if someone wants to cheat, they will
Infidelity is not the result of a partner being insufficiently attractive, wealthy, or “feminine.” Psychologists generally distinguish between two types of infidelity: sexual and emotional. According to Brand et al. (2007), people cheat for a variety of reasons: opportunity, boredom, dissatisfaction in the relationship, lack of attraction to their partner, or sometimes for no clear reason at all. In other words, blame cannot be placed on the betrayed partner for failing to perform some rigid gender script. Infidelity happens simply because someone chooses to betray, often when the opportunity arises unseen. Responsibility lies with the unfaithful individual — not the partner left behind to endure the consequences of broken commitment.
The obsession with rigid gender roles is deeply rooted in traditional cultures that perceive the world in binaries — masculine or feminine, black or white — without acknowledging the vast spectrum of human identity. Both men and women are capable of embodying traits that culture may label as “masculine” or “feminine.” By denying this fluidity, traditional frameworks lay the groundwork for unequal power relations between genders, which inevitably seep into romantic relationships.
Research shows that traditional gender systems constrain women’s access to status, resources, and security in ways men rarely experience. As Buller (2005) and Wood & Eagly (2007) argue, women often face fewer opportunities for career advancement and social mobility. In such contexts, their most viable route to stability is to attach themselves to men with greater power and higher social standing. This structural inequality helps explain why, in the wake of infidelity, many women forgive and stay — not out of love, but out of economic necessity.
This dependence, however, is precisely the problem. It reflects not a personal failure of women but a systemic failure to empower them with equal opportunities. As Munsch (2012) observes, socioeconomic pressures, when intersecting with gender, can increase vulnerability to infidelity. Simply put: inequality makes women more likely to endure betrayal, while men are more likely to exploit it.
The Price We All Pay
Masculine roles, it turns out, can wound men themselves—most deeply in the realm of the psyche. Society teaches us that men must be strong, unyielding, immune to fragility. But what happens when the weight of life presses down without mercy?
On September 1st, 2021, the public was shaken by the news of a university student in Malang who attempted to take his own life. He confessed that despair had overtaken him—born of economic hardship, family strife, and matters of the heart. The story drew mixed reactions: some voices urged compassion, reminding others of the importance of seeking professional help. Yet many chose mockery, casting blame upon the very one who suffered.
Here lies the heart of the problem. In Indonesia, the stigma surrounding mental health remains fierce—especially when it concerns men. The rigid mold of masculinity persuades them to silence their pain, to refuse help, to fear the brand of weakness.
And yet, seeking help is not a weakness. It is an act of courage. For in truth, pain and vulnerability know no gender.
For women, the weight of rigid gender roles manifests in another way—most starkly in the matter of wages. An infographic released by UN Women reveals that women in Indonesia still earn 23% less than men, even when many of them have pursued higher education.
The issue is not one of ability. It is the persistence of narrow gender expectations. Men are cast as the “providers,” while women are relegated to the background. Even when praised for their diligence and precision, women are often dismissed as lacking the so-called “life stakes” that men supposedly bear. Some companies exploit this perception outright, slashing women’s salaries under the cruel excuse that men “need it more.”
This is exploitation disguised as common sense, born of rigid gender scripts. Women may long to break free from male dominance, yet from the very beginning, their paths are fenced in by structures that dictate where they may stand—and how far they may go.
So, if both men and women are trapped in this system, where does all this “masculine energy” and “feminine energy” talk fit in? At first, it sounds like a solution: balance your energies, and your relationship will thrive. But here’s the catch—it’s often just another way patriarchy rebrands itself.
Masculine, Feminine, and the Misleading Promise
There’s a familiar belief we often hear: if women behave gently, lower their egos, and give space to men, then marriage will stay harmonious, partners will remain faithful. It sounds poetic, but is it always true?
History tells us otherwise. In the past, when women were confined by patriarchy—denied access to education and work—they were already submissive, already “feminine.” Yet many of them still endured infidelity or domestic violence. If the logic was right, shouldn’t they have been protected?
Take the story of Princess Diana. She was graceful, adored, and admired across the world. Still, that didn’t stop Prince Charles from having an affair. Or think of King Solomon, who was said to have 700 wives and 300 concubines. Does that mean all those women were somehow “too masculine” to keep him loyal? The thought itself is absurd.
This is what philosophers and logicians call a causal fallacy. To believe that “femininity” guarantees loyalty is like saying rain always causes floods. Reality is far more complex—correlation does not equal causation.
Human beings are infinitely more complicated than boxes labeled “masculine” or “feminine.” Biology, mental health, culture, history—each plays a role. Carl Jung, the great psychologist, once explained that every man carries a feminine side (anima), and every woman carries a masculine side (animus). Maturity, he argued, lies not in rejecting one or the other, but in integrating both.
So beware of sweet promises that oversimplify life. Being “feminine” will not magically keep your partner faithful, just as being “masculine” does not automatically make a man responsible. Life is far too intricate to be reduced into a single recipe.
If masculine and feminine energy can’t guarantee love, then what can? The answer is simpler and harder than we think. It’s not about playing roles or performing gender. It’s about showing up as yourself. That’s where the real test of love begins.
Love Without Mask
In today’s world, you have the freedom to express yourself. Do you want to be a feminine woman who loves dolls and the color pink? Go ahead. Do you want to be a man who loves flowers and isn’t afraid to cry? Nothing wrong with that. Do I want to be a strong, independent woman? Awesome.
So, what’s the problem?
The problem begins when you’re forced to follow a standard just to be loved. When you crave love, but you’re only loved with conditions. When you wear a mask because that’s what a patriarchal fantasy demands— not because it’s who you are. You’re loved as an idea, not as yourself. Isn’t that exactly what feminism has been fighting for? Equality, freedom, and the right to simply be.
But what happens when you’re no longer “feminine”? When life knocks you down, when you’re exhausted and broken—will you keep wearing that mask, begging for love?
What happens when you’re no longer slim and flawless because of pregnancy, because of his sperm—will he still stay?
And when a man still cheats, who gets the blame?
“You didn’t take care of yourself! No wonder your husband got bored!”
Sounds familiar? My Asian friends surely know this line—it’s an old, tired chorus used to corner women.
The truth is, neither “feminine” nor “masculine energy” is the answer. What truly makes a relationship last are communication and affection. Tell your partner what makes you happy, what makes you uncomfortable. Accept them as they are, and they should do the same for you.
If they don’t meet some of your standards—handsome, book lover, anime fan, whatever—then let them go. If they’re not the one for you, then you’re not the one for them either. Somewhere among the billions of people on this planet, there is someone who will fit you—maybe not perfectly, but genuinely. And that’s what matters.
