The Male Audacity

One would call it a pandemic at this point.

You know how they say you shouldn’t make decisions when you’re overly happy or angry? Well, I try to follow the same rules when I write. I avoid putting pen to paper when emotions run high. But today? Oh, today I am mad and angry. Before we go any further, let me start with a simple question: Where do men get their audacity from?

P.S.: Do not read if your masculinity is fragile. I aim to offend, so try not to be too emotional.

The Audacity

The first time I encountered male audacity, I didn’t know what to call it. I just knew it felt... audacious. There I was, in my own lane, minding my own business, when a man who clearly mistook himself for one of the three wise men decided to explain something so obvious to me—incorrectly, I might add. The confidence was mesmerizing, like watching a toddler attempt further math. He was wrong, loudly so, but somehow that didn’t stop him.

Since then, I’ve come to recognize "male audacity" as less of an anomaly and more of a common behaviour. It’s the unsolicited advice from the guy at the gym who thinks lifting a barbell makes him a life coach. It’s the random man on the street telling you to smile as if your face exists solely for his entertainment. It’s the coworker who repeats your explanation in a meeting, word for word, like a walking, talking plagiarism machine.

What fascinates me isn’t just the behavior itself—it’s the utter fearlessness with which it’s delivered. Male audacity operates on an unshakable foundation of entitlement, wrapped in the kind of confidence that makes you wonder: where do they get it? Is it on sale somewhere? Can I have just 10% of whatever that is?

What’s crazy is that you don’t even have to go looking for it. These men wear their audacity on their sleeves like a badge of honour, proudly displayed for the world to admire—or endure. It’s not tucked away, subtle, or hidden in layers of complexity. No!!! The male audacity is bold, brazen, and often as loud as their unsolicited opinions. Take, for example, you’re having a conversation with your friend in front of Baba Wale about school politics. Then, a guy decides to budge into the conversation and, with the conviction of a political warlord, launches into a monologue on why your take on school politics is wrong. It’s like they believe their mere presence is an upgrade to your knowledge base.

The Feminine Experience—As Told by Men (Apparently)

The worst part? It’s when they take it upon themselves to explain the feminine experience to you. Not content with monopolizing every other topic, they decide they’re the experts on your life, your body, and your reality—as though you haven’t been living it every single day. The sheer confidence is astonishing. What gave them the audacity to think they know more about being a woman than you—a literal female? That’s right. That’s the question. Who gave you people the audacity?

Take, for instance, the guy who breaks down period pain. With the enthusiasm of an Instagram unboxing video, he delivers a play-by-play on how it’s really not that bad because, you know, he once had a leg cramp during football practice and survived. Same thing, right? Or the man who assures you that childbirth is a natural process, so it can’t possibly be as painful as women make it sound. This, coming from someone who whines about stubbing their toe like it’s a near-death experience.

And don’t even get me started on the unsolicited advice about balancing careers and motherhood. The guy who has never changed a diaper, cooked a meal, or juggled a full-time job while raising kids suddenly transforms into a life coach. “What women need to understand is…” he begins, and at that point, you’re already questioning every decision that led you to this conversation.

It’s not just the arrogance—it’s the absolute lack of self-awareness. How do you walk into a room, look at someone who has spent decades living this life, and think, Ah, yes, I can explain this better than they ever could. The worst part is they don’t even hesitate. They launch right in, unburdened by doubt or, frankly, facts.

This isn’t just a one-off phenomenon. It’s a pattern—a global epidemic of misplaced confidence that transcends borders, cultures, and generations. And while it’s easy to laugh at the absurdity, there’s something deeply frustrating about having your lived experiences dissected, dismissed, and rebranded by someone who has never walked a day in your shoes.

So yes, we need answers. Who gave you people the audacity? Is it genetic? Is there a secret male handbook titled “How to Always Be Right (Even When You’re Not)?” Because I promise you, nobody handed us women a matching manual on “How to Sit Quietly While Being Mansplained About Our Own Lives.” But maybe we should write one—after all, it seems to be a skill we’re forced to master.

Why the Audacity Must Be Checked

And there it is—the male audacity, so widespread it feels like a pandemic. But instead of respect, it earns sighs, side-eyes, and sometimes outright anger. It’s not just the absurdity of it—it’s the entitlement. The kind that says, I know more about your life, your body, and your experiences—even though I’ve never lived them and wouldn’t survive if I tried.

The truth is that male audacity thrives in systems that allow it, nurture it, and excuse it. It’s passed down like a family heirloom, polished through generations, and kept safe under layers of unchecked privilege. And for too long, it’s been normalized, even celebrated. Then, we’re supposed to smile and act like we’re being done an act of favour.

But here’s the thing: we’re done. The era of silent tolerance is over. If your audacity comes uninvited, expect it to be met with unapologetic laughter, sharp critique, or, if necessary, a full-blown takedown. So, to the men proudly sporting their audacity as a badge of honor, consider this your wake-up call. Use that confidence for something else—listen, learn, and, most importantly, step back when you’re out of your depth. Because here’s the truth: no one handed you the audacity. You took it. And now, it’s time to give it back.

---