Eric Miller

Growing up, I thought I had manhood figured out. Strong. Competitive. Always in control. That’s what I was taught, and I wore it like armor. My grandmother drilled it into me. My stepfather reinforced it with violence and fear. My small-town culture wrapped it all up in racism and misogyny and handed it to me like a family heirloom.
I didn’t question it. I just absorbed it. And soon enough, I wasn’t just influenced by it, I embodying it.
On the surface, I looked like I was winning. I had the girlfriends, the sports, the jobs. I knew how to play the part of the “alpha male.” But behind the mask, it was a different story. I was anxious, depressed, and disconnected. I used women instead of building intimacy. I was doing everything I could to escape myself. I competed with everyone around me, my colleagues, teammates, even friends—because I thought domination was strength.
The truth? That mask of toughness wasn’t protecting me. It was suffocating me.
Living out a false version of masculinity comes with a cost. You don’t notice it right away, it just creeps in.
For me, the cost was broken relationships. I couldn’t get close to anyone, even when I wanted to. Vulnerability terrified me, so I sabotaged intimacy again and again.
The cost was self-destruction. I numbed my shame and confusion with substances. I made reckless choices that hurt people I cared about. Instead of taking responsibility, I blamed them. That’s how twisted my mindset had become I saw accountability as weakness.
And the cost was loneliness. The “alpha” script doesn’t let you be authentic. It doesn’t let you build real friendships or connections. It convinces you that trust is dangerous. Eventually, you’re surrounded by people, but no one really knows you.
That’s the dirty secret of toxic masculinity and it doesn’t just harm women or minorities. It destroys men from the inside out.
I wish I could say I woke up one morning enlightened and ready to change. The reality is simpler and harder: I changed because I couldn’t stand the pain anymore.
The cracks in my armor had been there for years. Failed relationships. Fractured friendships. Constant anxiety. I thought I was doing what men were supposed to do, but the results were loneliness and shame.
Slowly, I began to realize the truth: what I had been taught as “strength” was actually fear. Fear of being vulnerable. Fear of being seen. Fear of not measuring up.
And when fear is your compass, it always leads you into a ditch.
That realization was only the beginning. What came next was even harder, unlearning the lies I’d lived by and replacing them with something real.
But that’s a story that takes more than a few paragraphs to tell.
This isn’t just my story. It’s the story of thousands of men right now.
The “alpha” myth is alive and well. It’s pushed by influencers online and modeled by authoritarian leaders who thrive on control and domination. Young men are buying into it because they’re lonely, disconnected, and desperate for identity. But it’s a trap.
How do I know? I lived it.
And if we don’t start rewriting what masculinity means, the cost won’t just be broken men. It will be broken families, broken communities, and broken democracies.
The question is are we ready to confront the lie?
Did I make you curious about my story? I wrote about more revealing things that might shock you. Read From Alpha to Authentic on Substack. Read it now >>>