Emasculating™

So, me telling the truth

was “emasculating”?

No. Stop playing.

That was just me refusing

to shrink into your funhouse

mirror where reality bends to

your comfort.

You call it disrespect,

but it was really just clarity.

You say I cut too deep,

but the wound was already there

—I just pointed at it and refused to

pretend it wasn’t there.

What’s wild is that the word itself

isn’t about me at all.

It’s a panic button for fragile men

who mistake accountability

for an attack.

Translation:

“You made me feel small

without even raising your voice.”

And tell me—

how exactly do I hold the power

to remove the masculinity

you claim is so untouchable?

If a fact-based sentence could steal

your manhood, maybe it wasn’t

strapped on all that tight to begin

with.

Because here’s the truth:

I didn’t emasculate you.

I exposed you.

And the only thing crying in the

corner was your ego—

not your manhood.

So next time,

before you throw that word

around like a shield for your

feelings, remember:

emasculating isn’t what I did.

It’s what you felt—

when a woman refused

to play small for your convenience.