I accidentally went viral last week after sharing some reflections on my wife’s pregnancy, the labor process, and the early postpartum period. The video has since reached about 3.5 million views, with over 729,000 likes and 7,700 comments, not as a point of pride, but as evidence that it struck a nerve.
Here’s the video if you haven’t seen it yet:
What I described was not meant to be impressive or performative. It was observational. I spoke about being emotionally present, paying attention to subtle cues, anticipating needs, advocating for my wife in medical settings, and staying engaged after our daughter arrived. In other words, I described what I see as a partner doing his part.
What caught me off guard was not the reach of the video, but the response it generated.
A large number of women praised what I described as if it were exceptional, which stopped me in my tracks, because none of what I shared should register as extraordinary. It should be the baseline. That praise was not really about me. It was diagnostic.
It reflected how emotionally starved many women feel, particularly during pregnancy, childbirth, and early parenting. Not starved for help in a purely logistical sense, but for attunement, presence, and psychological partnership. Many women are not asking for perfection. They are asking not to feel alone while technically not being alone.
Then came another wave of comments that revealed something even deeper.
Many women said some version of this: that they might have chosen to have children, or would have had more children, or would feel differently about motherhood altogether, if their partner showed up the way I described. That is not a casual observation. It points to a profound dissatisfaction with how men are showing up in relationships and family life right now, not only among single women, but among partnered women, married women, and mothers who already feel overburdened.
This is where the conversation becomes uncomfortable, especially for men, but also where it becomes honest.
I was not always this way.
I did not emerge fully formed, emotionally fluent, or relationally competent. Much of my growth came through friction, feedback, and being challenged by my wife to mature, stretch, and integrate my masculinity in a healthier and more grounded way. That process was not always comfortable, but it was formative.
This is where discussions about modern relationships often collapse.
Some men hear this and retreat into defensiveness, interpreting growth as criticism or control. Some women hear it and feel exhausted by the idea that they have to help socialize grown men into adulthood. Both reactions are understandable, and both miss something essential.
Healthy relationships are developmental. Men are not finished products waiting to be discovered. They are shaped through responsibility, expectations, and being called into something larger than themselves. Growth does not happen in isolation. It happens in the presence of standards, accountability, and meaning.
If you are waiting for a man who is fully cooked, effortlessly attuned, and perfectly relational from the outset, you will mostly find that those men are already partnered and raising families. Not because they were born different, but because they were required to grow. That does not mean tolerating immaturity or disrespect. It does mean recognizing that many men become better when they are needed, challenged, and appealed to at the level of their better nature.
At the same time, men need to hear this clearly and without resentment.
We have work to do.
Emotional presence is not optional. Engagement in pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting is not a favor. Attunement is not weakness, and responsibility is not oppression. These are the foundations of trust, intimacy, and family stability, and avoiding them has consequences that are now becoming impossible to ignore.
If we want something different, the answer is not endless blame or gender warfare. It is not pretending differences do not exist, and it is not lowering expectations to avoid discomfort. Change does not come from moral posturing. It comes from mutual responsibility and an honest appeal to growth.
Men need to step up without being dragged.
Women need to hold standards without contempt.
Both need to stop assuming the worst about the other.
The reaction to that video was not about me. It was a mirror, and it reflected a culture that is deeply dissatisfied, yet still hopeful, still hungry for better partnerships, better fathers, and better models of shared responsibility.
That is a conversation worth having.
I will be posting regularly on TikTok now so please follow for more!
