There was a time, long ago, when I wanted to be the hero of my story. I wanted to be someone special, a leader, someone the world would remember when I was gone. That’s pretty normal, I think, especially for a straight white boy who was put into “gifted” programs in public school as though a knack for testing well meant I was somehow better than most of my peers.

Then I grew up, and I learned about the world as I grew. I saw that a lot of what I learned in school was euphemistic bullshit at best, outright lies at worst, and almost none of it was useful to me outside the world of academia. I saw how generations of straight, white, cis-men poisoned our world with their “heroism” and “leadership.” I also saw how women have often led the way on social and environmental justice issues that matter to me. It’s become clear to me that women are the heroes we need, and that means men like me have to take a step back to give them the opportunity to lead us to a better world.

That doesn’t mean men like me don’t have our part to play. We’re largely to blame for the mess we find ourselves in, and it wouldn’t be right to wash our hands of all responsibility to make things right. Our duty now is to support the women in our lives, to lift them up and help them realize their full potential. There is honor in that, and we men desperately need honor more than we ever needed glory.

Now a man and no longer a boy, I don’t want to be a hero. I don’t want to be a leader. I want to be a badass woman’s faithful sidekick, her loyal follower and steadfast supporter.

I want to be the reliable Waymond to some woman’s incredible Evelyn.

I like to think there are at least a few women out there who want exactly what I want to give, and I hope one of them chooses me someday. I suppose time will tell 🤷🏻‍♂️