Maybe It’s Time to End Women Empowerment

This might sound uncomfortable at first, but maybe we’ve reached a point where it’s time to end women empowerment.

Not feminism.

Not equality.

Not care, softness, or justice.

Just the narrow, overused idea of women empowerment as we currently practice it.

Women empowerment was necessary. It did real work. It protected people who needed protection. It corrected visible, measurable imbalances — in education, work, safety, and dignity. For a long time, it was the fastest and most practical way to move the needle.

But feminism was never meant to end there.

Feminism is not about women.

It is about femininity.

That distinction matters more than we are willing to admit.

Femininity is softness, vulnerability, emotional openness, intuition, care, nurture, receptivity. It is the part of life that sustains rather than conquers. It allows things to grow without forcing them. And for centuries, femininity — not just women — has been treated as something suspicious, dangerous, or weak.

Women empowerment became the face of feminism because women carried more visible femininity, and because historically, women were treated as lesser. Statistically, socially, structurally — the imbalance was obvious. So the movement took that shape. It made sense.

But along the way, something hardened.

Strength became the only language we trusted. Independence became the highest virtue. And softness quietly started to feel embarrassing — even shameful.

This is where confusion entered.

Femininity has often been confused with evil, not because it is bad, but because it is misunderstood. The same thing happens with negativity.

Negativity is not evil. It is simply the opposite of positivity. Even in science, negative does not mean harmful — it means regulating. In fact, too much unchecked positivity can be dangerous.

Here’s a simple example.

Cell growth is a positive process. Cells multiplying is how the body heals. But when that growth becomes excessive, when there is no regulation, it turns into cancer. The solution is not “more growth.” The solution is reduction. Limitation. Negative regulation.

So negativity — slowing down, stopping, cutting back — is what restores health.

This is true emotionally, biologically, socially, and philosophically.

Neither positivity nor negativity is bad.

What is harmful is excess without balance.

The same applies to masculinity and femininity.

Too much masculinity becomes domination, aggression, control.

Too much femininity, if it ever crossed a threshold, would also need regulation — though honestly, reaching that excess would itself be a historic achievement.

Balance doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be 50–50. Even 65–35 would be a radically healthier world than the one we live in now.

And this is where feminism lost its softness.

Somewhere along the way, being saved became an insult.

The phrase “damsel in distress” turned into something shameful. Fairy tales about princesses being saved were mocked. And slowly, women began saying — loudly and repeatedly — “I don’t need to be saved.”

Not because no one ever needs saving.

But because being saved started to sound like being weak.

This matters.

Because sometimes, people do need saving.

Women need saving.

Men need saving.

Children need saving.

Entire communities, regions, and countries need saving.

Saving does not mean helplessness. It means vulnerability. It means being human.

Yet in the name of empowerment, kindness began to disappear. Chivalry became awkward. Helping someone started to feel like an insult. Offering care felt risky — as if it might be misunderstood as control.

We stopped helping because we were afraid of offending strength.

That is not feminism.

Feminism does not reject care. It centers it.

Human beings are not meant to survive alone. We are communal by design. There is nothing regressive about being supported. There is nothing shameful about needing help. Sometimes we save. Sometimes we are saved. Both are essential to life.

Independence is not the same as isolation. And refusing help is not empowerment — it is often just endurance.

And here’s the pattern we rarely acknowledge.

It is not women who are punished.

It is femininity.

We are perfectly comfortable with women wearing masculine clothes. Suits, sharp cuts, traditionally “male” styles — these are not just accepted, they are celebrated. They’re seen as powerful, modern, even aspirational.

But when men wear feminine clothes — or express softness, or wear makeup, or move gently, or speak emotionally — the reaction changes.

They are mocked. Bullied. Questioned. Made uncomfortable.

Even within communities that accept gender variance, femininity in men is still treated as strange. As excessive. As something that needs justification.

This tells us everything.

Masculinity is allowed everywhere.

Femininity is allowed only in limited, controlled ways.

That is why feminism cannot stop at women empowerment.

The next step of feminism is allowing femininity in men.

This is already beginning — slowly — through gender-fluid communities, through shifting fashion, through emotional openness, through men learning to express vulnerability without shame.

This is not a side movement.

This is the continuation of feminism.

And alongside this, there must also be correction.

When women adopt toxic masculinity — control without care, power without balance — that too must be checked. Not punished. Not reversed. Simply regulated.

Because toxicity is not gendered.

It is excess without balance.

The future of feminism is not louder power.

It is quieter integration.

It is allowing softness to exist without apology.

It is protecting vulnerability instead of mocking it.

It is remembering that femininity is not weakness — it is life-giving.

We all get a first draft.

We are allowed to evolve.

And maybe the most radical thing we can do next

is let softness lead again.