Women Are Leading the Healing Revolution: But What About the Men?
I’m going to start with a statement many people won’t like, but research and lived experience both confirm it.
The majority of the wounds, abuses or violations women experience are at the hands of men.
According to the World Health Organization, about 1 in 3 women worldwide have experienced physical or sexual violence in their lifetime, most often at the hands of a male partner. In the United States, nearly 1 in 2 women report experiencing intimate partner violence at some point, according to Break the Cycle’s Domestic Violence Statistics.
These numbers are staggering, and they show up in the stories women carry in their bodies.
So it’s no wonder that as you begin to heal, deconstruct systems and find your footing again, you may develop a deep aversion to what harmed you.
The man who assaulted you.
The man who never loved you.
The man who would never allow you to lead.
The man who took all the credit.
The man who denied you money.
The man who took your children.
The men who took away your voice.
The man who tricked you.
The men or man who ____________.
What you lived through was real. It was horrible. It matters. And I’m so sorry for what you’ve had to survive.
This article is not about excusing men or giving them more power they do not deserve. It’s about widening the frame so your healing heart can remember that while many men caused harm, not all men are the same - and in fact, some are actively trying to unlearn the systems that shaped them.
Religious Trauma Surfaces Wounds Caused by Men
She was a pastor’s wife.
She was a homeschool mom.
She was a daughter.
She was the church secretary.
She was raised in church.
She was a missionary kid.
She was a children’s ministry volunteer.
She was the women’s Bible study leader.
One of those descriptions might have been you. And as you grew up or finally learned a healthier way of relating, you realized you were abused, coerced, manipulated, or harmed at the hands of a man who had authority over you or used his spiritual position to keep that power over your life.
Religious trauma has a way of pulling these memories to the surface. Not because you’re trying to dwell on the past, but because your body finally feels safe enough to tell the truth. What once felt “normal” or “just how things were” now reveals itself as control, grooming, spiritual manipulation or emotional domination. And almost always, it was a man who held the microphone, the pulpit, the paycheck, the doctrine, the discipline, the decision-making power.
He shaped your view of God, defined your worth, dictated your morality, and decided your future, all while insisting that obedience made you holy and silence made you good.
And when you finally stepped back, you saw it for what it was, not spiritual leadership, but spiritual control. Not pastoral care, but pastoral power. Not discipleship, but domination dressed up as devotion. It was a system where men held the authority and protected each other, while women carried the consequences, absorbed the fallout, and had their pain minimized or dismissed.
Religious trauma doesn’t just expose the harm. It exposes the pattern.
When you begin to heal, you start to see how deeply this shaped you. How it molded your sense of self, your relationship with your body, your understanding of God, your ability to trust and your tolerance for harm. Religious trauma doesn’t just reveal what happened. It reveals what you were taught to normalize.
And for many women, the hardest part is this:
You were harmed by men who claimed to speak for God.
That betrayal cuts deeper than almost any other. Because it wasn’t just a man who hurt you. It was a man who wrapped his harm in Scripture, prayer, authority, and divine language. It was a man who convinced you that obedience to him (your father, husband, pastor, elder) was obedience to God. It was a man who used your faith as the leash.
So when those wounds resurface, it’s not weakness. It’s not overreacting. It’s not bitterness. It’s your body finally telling the truth your mind wasn’t allowed to say.
And naming that truth is part of your healing. It’s part of reclaiming your voice. It’s part of breaking the power of spiritual coercive control.
Patriarchy Has Wounded Men Too
Patriarchy has harmed women in obvious, devastating ways. But it has also harmed men at the core of their identity, often without their awareness.
Men are taught from childhood to suppress emotion, dominate, stay in control and avoid vulnerability. These expectations come with consequences. Men are 4 times more likely to die by suicide in the United States, and nearly 70 percent of young men avoid seeking mental health care (CDC, NIMH).
These numbers aren’t excuses. They’re context.
Protector. Provider. Leader. Decision maker. These roles may resonate with some men, but they are also cultural scripts designed to keep systems intact. When men begin to question these roles, they’re not just challenging beliefs. They’re challenging identity, belonging and the social rewards they were taught to rely on.
Women Can Also Reinforce Patriarchy
There’s another truth we don’t talk about enough. Patriarchy is upheld by men, but it is often maintained by women who were taught to believe in it.
Not because women are the problem. Not because women intentionally want to harm other women. But because systems shape us long before we ever learn to question them.
Many women were raised to believe that obedience is holiness, submission is safety, and keeping the peace is their responsibility. They were taught to prioritize male comfort, male leadership, male authority. They were taught that challenging the system is dangerous, disrespectful, or sinful.
And when you’ve been raised inside a system that tells you your worth depends on compliance, it can feel terrifying to question it.
But here’s the reality:
Women can reinforce patriarchy by repeating what they were taught, raising children inside the same beliefs and policing other women who step outside the lines.
This isn’t about blaming women. It’s about naming the truth so we can heal it.
Some women enforce the rules because they believe it’s the only way to stay safe. Some enforce them because they’ve never been given permission to imagine anything different. Some enforce them because they were rewarded for loyalty to the system and punished for dissent.
But accountability matters. Because healing isn’t just about naming the men who harmed us. It’s also about recognizing the women who participated in the system - knowingly or unknowingly- and choosing not to repeat the same patterns ourselves.
Women who challenge patriarchy are not betraying their communities. They are refusing to pass down harm. They are breaking generational cycles. They are choosing truth over tradition.
And that matters.
Encourage a Man Who Is Trying
Men have obstacles to overcome that look different from the ones women face. “Boys don’t cry,” “man up,” “never show weakness” - these messages shape their emotional development from childhood. Emotional suppression in men is linked to higher rates of anxiety, depression, substance use and social isolation.
So when you find a man who is trying - trying to unlearn, trying to grow, trying to be safe - encourage him.
You don’t have to agree with everything he says. You don’t have to align theologically. You don’t have to see the world through his social lens. It’s not about be correct in everything. It’s about him being willing to say, “I was wrong. I am learning. I changed my mind.”
But the difference between this man and the men who harmed you is that he acknowledges how his actions impact others. He views women as equals. He is learning to be self-aware. He repairs when he gets it wrong. He listens without defending himself. He sits with discomfort instead of making it your job to soothe him.
He is doing work most men were never taught to do.
Women are leading the healing revolution - reading, learning, joining groups, naming harm, rebuilding from the inside out. But men were not given the same permission to feel, question or break open. Patriarchy didn’t just wound us. It wounded them too.
Why Aren’t More Men Doing the Work?
Some are. Quietly. Slowly. Imperfectly. Without applause. Without a roadmap. Without the communal support women have built for each other.
And research shows:
Men are significantly less likely to seek help for mentalhealth struggles (NIMH).
This doesn’t excuse harm. But it does explain why healing requires a different kind of courage from men - a courage that challenges the very identity they were taught to uphold.
Some additional messages men must deconstruct religiously and culturally:
Gentleness is equal to being soft.
Anger is a signal of strength.
Vulnerability is weakness.
Emotional needs make you less of a man.
Women exist to support men’s callings or needs.
Leadership is a male birthright.
Being the “head of the home” means having the final say.
Sexual desire is uncontrollable and therefore excusable.
Women’s bodies are responsible for men’s purity.
Apologizing is losing power.
Empathy is feminine.
Asking for help is failure.
Being feared is the same as being respected.
Providing financially is the same as being emotionally present.
Spiritual authority belongs to men by default.
How Do We Love the Men in Our Lives While Healing From the Wounds Inflicted by Men?
The dissonance can be resounding. It can feel like your body is living two truths at once.
You can love your partner, your son, your brother, your friend. You can see their goodness, their effort, their tenderness. And at the same time, your nervous system may still react to the harm men have caused you. Trauma lives in the body long after the mind has tried to make sense of it.
This doesn’t make you irrational. It makes you human.
We’re trying to heal from wounds inflicted by men while also trying to stay open to the men who are safe. We’re trying to honor our bodies without punishing the men who didn’t harm us. We’re trying to build trust without abandoning the boundaries that saved our lives.
It’s not simple. It’s not linear. It’s not something you “get over.” It’s something you learn to navigate with honesty and compassion for yourself.
Here’s the truth:
You can honor your healing and still honor the men who are doing the work.
You can set boundaries and still offer kindness. You can protect your heart and still recognize goodness. You can acknowledge the harm men have caused without collapsing all men into the same category.
The dissonance doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re healing in real time, in real relationships, in a world where gendered harm is real and gendered goodness is real too.
The Revolution Needs Both
Women are leading the healing revolution. But the revolution becomes sustainable when men learn to heal too.
Not as saviors. Not as leaders. Not as the center of the story. But as humans willing to confront the systems that shaped them and the harm those systems caused.
Women cannot dismantle patriarchy alone. We don’t benefit from it. We didn’t ask for it. And we shouldn’t be the only ones responsible for tearing it down.
So when you encounter a man who is genuinely trying - unlearning, listening, being accountable, learning about mental health and trauma, choosing empathy over ego - name it. Not for his sake, but for yours. Because it reminds your healing heart that not all men are the men who harmed you. That safe men exist. That change is possible.
That healing is not a gendered miracle. It’s a human one.
This article is not intended to treat or diagnose any condition.
Rebekah is not a licensed therapist or clinician. Any thoughts, opinions or resources given on this site are strictly her own observation and insights based on personal experiences and study. It should in no way take the place of professional assistance.