Latest news with #mankeeping
CNA
2 days ago
- General
- CNA
Emotional toll of 'mankeeping': Why women feel strained as men's social circles shrink
Justin Lioi is a licensed clinical social worker in Brooklyn who specialises in therapy for men. When he sees a new client, one of the first things he asks is: Who can you talk to about what's going on in your life? Much of the time, Lioi said, his straight male clients tell him that they rarely open up to anyone but their girlfriends or wives. Their partners have become their unofficial therapists, he said, 'doing all the emotional labour.' That particular role now has a name: 'Mankeeping.' The term, coined by Angelica Puzio Ferrara, a postdoctoral fellow at Stanford University, has taken off online. It describes the work women do to meet the social and emotional needs of the men in their lives, from supporting their partners through daily challenges and inner turmoil, to encouraging them to meet up with their friends. 'What I have been seeing in my research is how women have been asked or expected to take on more work to be a central – if not the central – piece of a man's social support system,' Ferrara said, taking care to note that the dynamic isn't experienced by all couples. The concept has taken on a bit of a life of its own, with some articles going so far as to claim that mankeeping has 'ruined' dating and driven women to celibacy. We talked to Ferrara and other experts about what mankeeping is and isn't, and how to tell if it has seeped into your relationship. MANKEEPING ISN'T JUST EMOTIONAL INTIMACY Ferrara, who researches male friendship at Stanford's Clayman Institute for Gender Research, and Dylan Vergara, a research assistant, published a paper on mankeeping in 2024, after investigating why some men struggle to form close bonds – a growing and well-documented issue. In a 2021 survey, 15 per cent of men said they didn't have any close friends, up from 3 percent in 1990. The same report showed that in 1990, nearly half of young men said they would reach out to friends when facing a personal issue; two decades later, just over 20 percent said the same. Ferrara found that 'women tended to have all of these nodes of support they were going to for problems, whereas men were more likely to be going to just them,' she said. She sees 'mankeeping' as an important extension of the concept of 'kinkeeping' – the work of keeping families together that researchers have found tends to fall disproportionately on women. Eve Tilley-Colson, 37, was relieved to stumble upon the concept of 'mankeeping' on social media. Tilley-Colson, who lives in Los Angeles, is happy in her relationship with her boyfriend of nearly seven months, and described him as emotionally mature, funny and caring. They make a good team, but Tilley-Colson finds herself offering him a fair amount of social and emotional scaffolding, she said. They're both busy attorneys, but she tends to take charge of their social plans. Tilley-Colson has hung out with her boyfriend's close friends a handful of times; he hangs out with hers several times a week. Her role as the de facto social director of the relationship includes more serious concerns, too. 'When are we going to meet each other's parents? When are we going to go on our first vacation together?' she said. 'And if all of that onus is on me to kind of plan, then I also feel all of the responsibility if something goes wrong.' 'Mankeeping' put a word to her feelings of imbalance. 'I feel responsible for bringing the light to the relationship,' she said. Her partner, Glenn, 37, who agreed to speak to The New York Times but asked to use his first name only, said his gut reaction when his girlfriend first described mankeeping to him was that it seemed consistent with what he'd seen play out in many heterosexual relationships. He wondered, 'Okay, but is that bad?' 'We're in a moment where more women are speaking up about how drained they are by this dynamic,' said Justin Pere, who runs a therapy practice in Seattle that focuses on relationships and men's issues. Tilley-Colson, who is also a content creator, even made a post on TikTok about it. MALE SOCIAL DISCONNECTION IS A LARGER PROBLEM Rather than viewing 'mankeeping' as an internet-approved bit of therapy-speak used to dump on straight men, experts said they see it as a term that can help sound the alarm about the need for men to invest emotionally in friendships. 'The reality is, no one person can meet all of another's emotional needs,' said Tracy Dalgleish, a psychologist and couples therapist based in Ottawa. 'Men need those outlets as well. Men need social connection. Men need to be vulnerable with other men.' Pere said finding additional sources for emotional support does not require going from 'zero to 60,' adding that deepening friendships 'can happen in these smaller steps that are more manageable.' He might encourage a client to share something new about himself with a friend he already has, for instance. Or invite a friend he normally sees in only one context to do something new (a friendship-building concept sometimes referred to as 'repotting '). If his male clients are reluctant to put themselves out there in that way, he tells them that developing relationships is not about replacing their romantic relationship, but strengthening it by 'widening the emotional foundation underneath your life by investing in friendships.' But some of the challenges men face in making strong connections are societal, said Richard Reeves, president of the American Institute for Boys and Men, a think tank, and author of Of Boys And Men. Many of the institutions and spaces where men used to organically make friends have eroded, he said, like houses of worship, civic groups and even the simple workplace. 'Men used to be able to put themselves in these institutional settings and it kind of happened around them,' he added. 'That's just not happening so much anymore. Men do have to do more, be more assertive. I'm finding that even in my own life.' For Tilley-Colson and Glenn, talking about mankeeping explicitly has helped ease her burden. Glenn admitted that partly he thought his girlfriend just liked taking the reins socially. But when she explained how it felt to act as the default emotional manager in the relationship, he began to see how things could feel lopsided, he said. 'I've put more effort in to try and even things out,' he said.
Vogue
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Vogue
What Is 'Mankeeping,' and How Do I Know If I'm Doing It?
You know that friend who always brings her boyfriend to the hang (go home, Brad!), and seems 100% occupied with meeting his various needs, whether that means doing his laundry or making sure he's meeting up with friends and not succumbing to the male-loneliness epidemic? As it turns out, there's now a word to describe her: she's a 'mankeeper,' and the work she does to keep her less-than-motivated male partner going is 'mankeeping' in action. TikTok content This content can also be viewed on the site it originates from. But where did the term come from, and what's so wrong with it? Below, find everything you need to know about mankeeping: What is mankeeping, exactly? Mankeeping refers to the emotional and social labor that straight women often take on in their relationships with straight men, most specifically around social connection. The term is notably used in a 2024 Stanford study titled 'Theorizing mankeeping: The male friendship recession and women's associated labor as a structural component of gender inequality.' The study's researchers describe themselves as 'introduc[ing] the concept of 'mankeeping,' a concept that continues the legacy of Carolyn Rosenthal's sociological theory of 'kinkeeping,' where we explored three postulates: that women disproportionately compensate for men's lack of social support, that this compensation constitutes labor, and that such labor often comes at a cost to women through their wellbeing and time.' What's an example of mankeeping in action? One could argue that The Simpsons's Marge is a logistical mankeeper, if not a socio-emotional one; while her husband Homer certainly has no trouble pouring his heart out to his close circle of guy friends over a few Duff beers at Moe's, it often falls to Marge to make sure he's meeting bare-minimum parenting expectations, going to the doctor, taking care of house and hygiene chores, and basically presenting himself to the world like an adult. In terms of more emotional mankeeping, the episode of Gilmore Girls where Lorelai and Sookie force their significant others, Luke and Jackson, to hang out (largely against their will) feels relevant. Claire Dunphy from Modern Family also seems like a classic mankeeper…or is she just a Virgo-slash-control-freak? And what's so wrong with mankeeping, exactly? On the surface of things, there might seem to be nothing so terrible about making sure your partner is socially supported, but a key aspect of mankeeping is that it's unreciprocated.
Telegraph
5 days ago
- General
- Telegraph
My ‘mankeeper' wife always wants me to share my feelings. Why can't she just leave me alone?
So it is called 'mankeeping' now, is it? Not 'nagging', or 'pestering', but a nice touchy-feely expression which gives every woman – especially my wife – the right to badger me multiple times a day about how I am 'feeling'? Last week my wife of 38 years, Diana, reported on this new psychotherapist term, 'mankeeping', in which couples are suffering a detrimental effect on their relationship because women are having to do all the 'emotional heavy-lifting'. 'Mankeepers' grumble that their male partners fail to share their innermost feelings and emotions with them, so they in turn feel shut out of their lives. This very much struck a chord with me as Diana asks me about 10 times a day if I am 'OK'. It drives me crazy – and I think most men will agree. I fear mankeeping will now become the word of the month in our household – and another stick to beat me with. Yet I do not need to be mankept by my wife or anyone else, thank you very much. We men want mainly to be left alone with our thoughts. We are not all emotional husks and we do have deeply felt emotions that do occasionally come out and, yes, need to be talked about. Just not 10 times a day. To avoid the never-ending 'How are you feeling? Are you sure you are alright?' series of enquiries about my health, both mental and physical (we're both now 64 years old), I have adopted a kind of rictus grin to allay any fears Diana might have about my state of mind. Sadly, I don't think it works. I spent 10 years as a TV war correspondent, reporting from Iraq, Kosovo, Sierra Leone and Albania, and, because some of my colleagues now have PTSD, Diana wants me to 'vocalise my fears'. Yes, the plight of civilians I witnessed – brutalised and trapped in these places – during my career did have a profound effect on me, and the memories are very deep-rooted. But that is where I want them to stay. If I opened that Pandora's box in my mind on a regular basis I very much doubt that our marriage – or even myself as a sane human being – would survive. Those memories need to be shared only by the camera operators and other journalists I have worked with over the years, not my wife and children. In other words, people who can relate to those things. When I get together with like-minded people – mostly men, but I also have female war-correspondent friends – we do share feelings and emotions, without the fear that we are burdening someone with them. Because that is how I feel – my emotions are mine. I don't want anyone else dabbling in my soul. Of course not many men have witnessed such trauma – but I think most do feel like me, that they'd rather trundle on from day to day not thinking about anything very deeply, just putting one foot in front of the other, getting jobs done and looking forward to a beer. I cannot understand why women need to take their emotional temperature seemingly 20 times each day and tell each other everything. It's as if they are constantly mentally patting themselves down, asking: 'Am I happy?' Men are not like this. We deal in facts and realities, and practical issues such as: 'Must get more AdBlue for the car.' When my wife looks at me with that annoying 'caring' expression and asks: 'What are you thinking?' I have to swiftly make something up on the spot that I think will please her, when the real answer is 'nothing whatsoever'. The term mankeeping was coined by postdoctoral fellow Angelica Ferrara, a postdoctoral scholar at America's Stanford University, and a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics. The term, she says, 'describes the unreciprocated work that women do to manage the emotional and social needs of the men in their lives, an under-recognised form of labour resulting from men's declining social networks'. Now hold on there! I have quite a few close friends, and we talk a lot. OK, mostly about cars and football and very little about our feelings – but that does not mean the closeness is not there. It is there, in an expression, in a nod, in a hand on the arm. We don't need to emotionally bleed all over each other to feel our support. I know they are there for me, and would go to the ends of the Earth if I needed them. But we deal with personal issues through jokes and light banter. I rely on them to cheer me up – not constantly mop up my spilt emotions. I can do that myself, thank you. If I really think about it, I don't want to be seen as weak by anyone, especially not my wife or children. That's my self-worth as a man. I remember an episode in the TV show Friends where one of the characters complains that her boyfriend has never cried. She pursues him until he breaks down and suddenly, he can't stop weeping. Soon after, she leaves him. Point proven! I hate crying in front of my wife. She says it is a 'strength' but to me, I have failed if I let go to that extent. That isn't my role. I would far rather unburden myself to people who really know what I am feeling inside – and this only very occasionally. In many ways this has been very helpful to us as a couple – I hope my wife now understands that emoting all over the place makes me feel much worse, not better. I don't enjoy it. I find it confusing and hurtful, and it stirs up way too much inside. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe in stoicism and presenting a brave face to the world. And, at the end of the day, I like to know I've kept my head down, worked hard and earned a drink. We really are that simple.
Yahoo
5 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
My ‘mankeeper' wife always wants me to share my feelings. Why can't she just leave me alone?
So it is called 'mankeeping' now, is it? Not 'nagging', or 'pestering', but a nice touchy-feely expression which gives every woman – especially my wife – the right to badger me multiple times a day about how I am 'feeling'? Last week my wife of 38 years, Diana, reported on this new psychotherapist term, 'mankeeping', in which couples are suffering a detrimental effect on their relationship because women are having to do all the 'emotional heavy-lifting'. 'Mankeepers' grumble that their male partners fail to share their innermost feelings and emotions with them, so they in turn feel shut out of their lives. This very much struck a chord with me as Diana asks me about 10 times a day if I am 'OK'. It drives me crazy – and I think most men will agree. I fear mankeeping will now become the word of the month in our household – and another stick to beat me with. Yet I do not need to be mankept by my wife or anyone else, thank you very much. We men want mainly to be left alone with our thoughts. We are not all emotional husks and we do have deeply felt emotions that do occasionally come out and, yes, need to be talked about. Just not 10 times a day. To avoid the never-ending 'How are you feeling? Are you sure you are alright?' series of enquiries about my health, both mental and physical (we're both now 64 years old), I have adopted a kind of rictus grin to allay any fears Diana might have about my state of mind. Sadly, I don't think it works. I spent 10 years as a TV war correspondent, reporting from Iraq, Kosovo, Sierra Leone and Albania, and, because some of my colleagues now have PTSD, Diana wants me to 'vocalise my fears'. Yes, the plight of civilians I witnessed – brutalised and trapped in these places – during my career did have a profound effect on me, and the memories are very deep-rooted. But that is where I want them to stay. If I opened that Pandora's box in my mind on a regular basis I very much doubt that our marriage – or even myself as a sane human being – would survive. Those memories need to be shared only by the camera operators and other journalists I have worked with over the years, not my wife and children. In other words, people who can relate to those things. When I get together with like-minded people – mostly men, but I also have female war correspondent friends – we do share feelings and emotions, without the fear that we are burdening someone with them. Because that is how I feel – my emotions are mine. I don't want anyone else dabbling in my soul. Of course not many men have witnessed such trauma – but I think most do feel like me, that they'd rather trundle on from day to day not thinking about anything very deeply, just putting one foot in front of the other, getting jobs done and looking forward to a beer. I cannot understand why women need to take their emotional temperature seemingly 20 times each day and tell each other everything. It's as if they are constantly mentally patting themselves down, asking: 'Am I happy?' Men are not like this. We deal in facts and realities, and practical issues such as: 'Must get more AdBlue for the car.' When my wife looks at me with that annoying 'caring' expression and asks: 'What are you thinking?' I have to swiftly make something up on the spot that I think will please her, when the real answer is 'nothing whatsoever'. The term mankeeping was coined by postdoctoral fellow Angelica Ferrara, a postdoctoral scholar at America's Stanford University, and a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics. The term, she says, 'describes the unreciprocated work that women do to manage the emotional and social needs of the men in their lives, an under-recognised form of labour resulting from men's declining social networks'. Now hold on there! I have quite a few close friends, and we talk a lot. OK, mostly about cars and football and very little about our feelings – but that does not mean the closeness is not there. It is there, in an expression, in a nod, in a hand on the arm. We don't need to emotionally bleed all over each other to feel our support. I know they are there for me, and would go to the ends of the earth if I needed them. But we deal with personal issues through jokes and light banter. I rely on them to cheer me up – not constantly mop up my spilt emotions. I can do that myself, thank you. If I really think about it, I don't want to be seen as weak by anyone, especially not my wife or children. That's my self-worth as a man. I remember an episode in the TV show Friends where one of the characters complains that her boyfriend has never cried. She pursues him until he breaks down and suddenly, he can't stop weeping. Soon after, she leaves him. Point proven! I hate crying in front of my wife. She says it is a 'strength' but to me, I have failed if I let go to that extent. That isn't my role. I would far rather unburden myself to people who really know what I am feeling inside – and this only very occasionally. In many ways this has been very helpful to us as a couple – I hope my wife now understands that emoting all over the place makes me feel much worse, not better. I don't enjoy it. I find it confusing and hurtful, and it stirs up way too much inside. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe in stoicism and presenting a brave face to the world. And, at the end of the day, I like to know I've kept my head down, worked hard and earned a drink. We really are that simple. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more. Solve the daily Crossword
The Guardian
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Are heterosexuals OK?
Are heterosexuals OK? The question is in the ether, with the New York Times interrogating the phenomenon of 'heteropessimism' or even 'heterofatalism' – women, specifically, viewing their heterosexuality as a misfortune and lifelong disappointment, given the flakiness and apparent commitment-phobia of the men they encounter. Women online have also been deploring the amount of 'mankeeping' (shouldering the 'structural burden of men's declining social networks' as the research team who coined the term put it) in their lives. But it has being posed most entertainingly by the French Instagram account @le_trema, created by Maël Coutand. Posts follow a standard format: in faux-reportage style, Coutand says: 'Today we're asking: are heterosexuals OK? (Est-ce que les hétérosexuels vont bien?)' Then there's a horribly catchy jingle and a clip of some egregious online machismo or manosphere discourse that makes Sinitta's So Macho look sophisticated – think men thumping each other with tyres, or shaving their eyelashes to look more manly; one tests his 'self-control' by trapping his fingers in mousetraps; another crawls along railings to avoid stepping on a rainbow-painted staircase. Women aren't spared: there's a mother and daughter proudly pregnant by the same guy simultaneously, and a mind-bogglingly OTT gender reveal ceremony. The conclusion is inevitably: 'Non!' Of course, bigger picture, heterosexuals are fine. Many of us are in happy relationships with sane members of the opposite sex. But more importantly, it's not straights who suffer significant physical and mental health inequalities and poorer housing outcomes, who face discrimination and violence for their sexual identity or whose existence is still criminalised in disgracefully large swathes of the world. Teasingly interrogating the wilder, weirder corners of heteronormativity is a fun corrective; speaking to the radio station France Inter, Coutant said people have told him the account has been a starting point to discuss the absurd expectations around masculinity with their teenage sons. It's also very funny and doesn't require much French, but beware that earworm of a jingle: the next time you skirt a bare-chested punch-up outside a 'Spoons, read about Gregg Wallace's new 'men only' chat room or catch five minutes of Love Island, it will play, unbidden, in your head. Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist
