Women everywhere are still fighting for their safety. Over the summer millions marched in India, demanding justice for a doctor who was gang-raped and murdered in a hospital, while in Brazil, numerous women, including a cabinet minister, have reported incidents of sexual harassment by, ironically, the human rights minister. This week in France, the trial ended for 51 men, including the victim’s own husband, for decades of rape, highlighting the widespread nature of this violence.
All these acts share one commonality: each act of violence was perpetrated by a man against a woman.
Yet, the conversation always returns to what women can do differently. Be quieter. Dress modestly. Stay inside after dark. This narrative places the burden of safety on the victims but ignores the root cause of this violence: toxic masculinity and its deep roots in our family and cultural system.
When a plane crashes, as an Alaska Airlines Boeing 737 did earlier this year, we immediately question the pilot, the perpetrator of the crash. We demand accountability from the airlines, scrutinize aviation safety protocols, and ensure that every system in place is thoroughly examined to prevent future disasters. We don’t ask what the passengers did to deserve their fates. In fact, we sympathize with them.
Why then, when it comes to sexual assault, do we so often apply a double standard? Instead of holding the perpetrators responsible, we question the victim. We ask what they were wearing, where they were, and why they were there. We challenge their choices rather than the actions of the person who violated their dignity. But the problem isn’t women; it’s the culture of unaddressed anger, control, and violence that men are conditioned into from the moment they’re born.
I remember leading a tense, co-ed session on this topic in Boston in 2019, where women bravely shared their personal stories of assault. I posed a question that had long troubled me: Why are so many men violent? Isn’t it remarkable, I said, that globally, 30-60% of women are estimated to face violence, yet none of the men in this room have spoken? One by one, the men began to open up, revealing deep wounds of childhood trauma, abuse, and neglect, and expressing profound grief and remorse for the harm they had caused women. It was a pivotal moment, an honest confrontation with the root causes of violence and the path to reflection and change.
This has reflected a pattern I’ve encountered throughout my decade of work on gender issues and in founding Parity Lab’s survivor-led ecosystem to combat gender-based violence: the roots of violence often lie in the perpetrator’s own unresolved trauma.
The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study, one of the largest investigations into childhood abuse and its long-term effects, found a strong correlation between early trauma and increased risk of harmful behaviors like aggression, violence, and substance abuse due to disrupted emotional regulation. An American Journal of Preventive Medicine study found that compared to persons with no ACEs, those with four or more ACEs were “more likely to engage in a wide range of health risk behaviors, including violence-related behavior, early initiation of sexual activity, illicit drug use, and self-reported alcohol problems.”
Similarly, a national intimate partner and sexual violence survey published by the CDC highlights that nearly 70% of men who reported having been physically abused as children also reported committing violence against a partner. The primary perpetrator in the France rape case told the court about the sexual assault he suffered at age nine. Unless men heal from childhood harm, they will reenact their trauma on others, keeping the cycle of violence alive. But this cycle can be addressed and interrupted.
Through my lived experience and work, I have seen how healed men handle challenging situations differently. A healed man, when facing a disagreement over household tasks, would pause, listen calmly, and focus on finding a solution, recognizing the issue is about shared responsibilities, not a personal attack. In contrast, an unhealed man often reacts defensively, feeling personally attacked, allowing old wounds to fuel his response, turning an everyday disagreement into a potentially violent situation.
While childhood traumas never excuse violence, they help survivors like us understand and make sense of the deeply traumatic and senseless violence we have experienced. They help us understand the systemic nature of the problem and highlight where solutions need to be implemented. Perhaps this war would never have happened if men had taken the responsibility to heal.
Healing doesn’t always require decades of therapy. Strong communities can be just as powerful. One study published in Psychiatric Quarterly shows that peer support and community belonging significantly reduce trauma symptoms, including depression and PTSD. By fostering safe spaces for connection, we can disrupt the cycle of trauma without relying solely on clinical intervention.
The advantage of healing goes far beyond overcoming past pain; it transforms how individuals experience life. Healing empowers people to break harmful cycles, both personal and intergenerational, creating a future free from the weight of past trauma. It improves mental and physical health, builds stronger relationships, and fosters resilience, allowing individuals to handle challenges with greater confidence without resorting to violence.
Healing is not a sign of weakness—it’s a powerful expression of true male strength. It takes courage to face past wounds, confront vulnerabilities, and choose growth over denial. For too long, strength has been falsely equated with emotional suppression, but real strength lies in self-awareness and the ability to transform pain into resilience. By embracing healing, men redefine masculinity in a way that builds healthier relationships, stronger communities, and a more authentic self. True strength is about owning your past, healing it, and using that power to protect and uplift others.
Men of this generation face an important choice: Will you break the cycle of violence by healing, or will you condemn yet another generation to the same pain?