Something’s Missing and You Know It

Let’s talk about extinction.

Not the polar bears or the bees... no, something even rarer. A presence once common in myth, in stories, even on our screens, now vanishing so subtly you didn’t even notice it was gone.

For decades, centuries even, many voices were silenced. They were erased. They were rewritten. So now, we amplify. We correct. We reframe. The movement is toward inclusion, restoration, space for every kind of self. Identity is sacred once again.

Except one.

This presence used to appear in quiet ways, in the background of daily life. A steady force we trusted without fanfare. Found in how we once framed safety, structure, and sacrifice. Not flashy. Not fashionable. But dependable. When things fell apart, this was the one expected to hold the line. They didn’t ask for praise. They didn’t perform. They simply did.

But over time, that figure stopped being portrayed as essential. They became awkward. Then problematic. Then a punchline. The presence that once stood firm so others could express freely is now permitted to exist only as parody, if at all.

At first, it seemed like balance. A needed course correction. But it has become something more unsettling: erasure disguised as equality. Because every identity has been given space to explore, express, define, and evolve.

Every identity, except one.

The one still asked to shrink so others can grow. Still expected to apologize, not for harm done, but for simply existing unchanged.

They are not overbearing. They are not cruel. They are simply anchored. An identity that once gave others room to breathe by being the one who held the storm. Not perfect, but present. Enduring. A quiet kind of strength that didn’t demand space, it made space.

And in a culture where everyone is told to express their truth, this one is asked to silence theirs.

What’s vanished is not dominance, but the identity of the one who once wore it with responsibility.

The masculine presence. And we haven’t seen him in a while.

They are not a tyrant. Not a cliché. They are a structure, a sacrifice. The one who didn’t speak because they were too busy building the ground others stand on. They are not feared. Nor adored. They are simply trusted.

And somehow, in our noble pursuit of identity for all, we made one identity out of bounds.

If you didn’t see who was missing until now...

Maybe that’s because you’ve already felt the loss.