Masculinity Again: Testosterone and Personality

This One's for the Boys (Again)

Recently, I shared some thoughts on healthy masculinity—and how essential it is that we, especially as men, learn to engage this conversation more intentionally. If you missed that post, it might be worth checking out here, because there, we touched on some of the identity markers typically linked to masculinity, and how reframing those can lead to healthier expressions of who we are.

Men often want to lead, protect, and provide. And while those traits certainly aren’t exclusive to men, they can be meaningful ways for us to express our identity—when they’re lived out well.

The Coles notes: Leadership isn’t about entitlement. It’s something we step into by serving others, earning trust, and creating a dynamic where people choose to follow us. Protection isn’t about guarding what we think is ours—it’s about leveraging strength for the sake of others. And provision? That’s more than just a bank account balance. It’s about cultivating spaces where our people—and our communities—can thrive.

Getting from Here to There

So, how do we move toward a healthier masculinity?

In the last conversation, we explored gender roles—how they’re shaped by average male biology, coded into social expectations, and then returned to us as a script. In that sense, masculinity is both a product of biology and social formation. What it means to be a man will shift depending on the cultural context. And even within those contexts, each man’s experience will be uniquely shaped by their own story.

That means we need space for all of it—the complexity, the nuance, the individuality.

Still, if we’re going to speak about men broadly, we have to consider the biological patterns that have influenced how masculinity has historically been constructed. And then we can start to ask: what do those patterns offer us in terms of tools and gifts? And what are the shadows we need to work on?

Start with Your Strengths

In my own journey, one thing that’s been invaluable is this: starting with what I already do well. What are my natural inclinations, my core strengths? What would happen if I invested my energy into refining those?

I’ve found that when I prioritize honing my strengths, I’m better positioned later to circle back and work on my weaknesses.

And broadly speaking, average male biology tends to produce higher testosterone levels, which are often linked to traits like dominance, assertiveness, and aggression. Now, those can sound negative, but they can also be reframed as directness, decisiveness, competitiveness, and a tendency toward logical or binary thinking. These can be strengths we build on.

Still, if those are the only muscles we ever flex, we won’t grow into the fullness of our humanity.

Empathy. Nurturing. Verbal fluency. Intuition. Imagination. These aren’t just soft skills—they’re essential human capacities. And while they may come more easily to some, men—on average—might need to work more intentionally to cultivate them.

That said, if we can start with our strengths and point them in the healthiest possible directions, we might actually find ourselves better equipped to round out our full skill set.

Dominance vs. Confidence: Reframing Power

So let’s talk about dominance. Right off the bat, I don't think it's a good word to build your identity around.

As a Christian, I believe the story of Christ offers us a model here. The most dominant personality in the universe—God, in Jesus—demonstrates that true power leads to one thing: the desire to give it away. That’s the story of Christianity. We, with limited power, often grasp for more. But complete, unlimited power chooses to empty itself.

So Christ took on the role of a servant because that's the apex of power—to willingly relinquish it for the sake of another. Which is also why true leadership, as we explored earlier, comes through servanthood. Not because you're becoming less, but because that’s how people are truly inspired to follow.

You can call yourself a leader all day long. But if no one's following, it’s just a title.

Dominance or Confidence?

In a similar way, dominance may come naturally to many men. But the healthier expression of that trait–is confidence.

I’m an Eight on the Enneagram. Now, the Enneagram isn’t everything, but it can be helpful. Eights are often seen as aggressive, assertive, dominant—sometimes overbearing. Classic "Type A" energy. And that kind of personality often ends up in visible leadership roles.

But here's what I've come to understand, though the Enneagram is that I'm not driven by applause or affirmation nearly as much as I'm driven by a fear of losing control over my own life. And that fear—especially when it goes unchecked—can turn toxic fast. A dominant personality plus fear is a mess.

Not all men are Eights—just about 8% are. But this is still a useful illustration. Because dominance, especially when rooted in insecurity or fear, leads to controlling, risk-averse behaviours that can alienate us from real leadership opportunities that we might aspire to.

What we need is a shift. From dominance to confidence.

Confidence as a Redemptive Force

Confident leaders take fear and turn it into vision. Confident men channel their desire for control into building platforms for others. They recognize that the discomfort with serving, even the fear of not being in control, is part of growth.

Dominance builds walls. Confidence opens doors.

The shift is about using that same core instinct—that same strength—and pointing it in the right direction.

New challenges. New opportunities. New dreams not just for ourselves, but for those around us.

Because the more confident you are, the less you see others as threats. And slowly, their success becomes part of your story too.

So ask yourself: are you clinging to control out of fear? Or are you opening your life to others out of confidence?

When I look back, what brings me the most joy isn’t what I controlled out of fear. It’s the platforms I helped build. The opportunities I helped shape. The people I got to champion because I learned to be confident, first in myself, and then in those around me.

Dominance is the fearful expression of what should be a healthy confidence.

Assertiveness and the Power of Calm Vision

Assertiveness certainly carries a less negative connotation than dominance. And honestly, I think it's a good thing to be able to name your perspective in the world.

That said, assertiveness, when it's healthy, begins with two things: kindness to those around you, and humility in recognizing that your perspective isn’t the only one that matters. That kind of posture isn’t weakness; it’s wisdom.

So, I don’t want my kids to be rude. I don’t want them talking back just to prove a point. But I do want them to be assertive. I want them to be able to say:

This is what I see. This is what I want. This is how I need to express myself in this moment—even when there’s a power imbalance.

Teaching that to our kids is good. And for many of us as men, assertiveness will feel like a natural starting point—something we can cultivate.

From Assertiveness to Calm Vision

But let’s reframe assertiveness a bit more.

Because when it's not expressed in healthy ways, assertiveness can start to feel pretty defensive. That’s a lot of what I see in the so-called "manosphere." A lot of voices claiming to be assertive—saying things that "no one else will say" and calling that masculinity.

But more often than not, it just comes across as fear.

Fear that the world is shifting and you don't know how to fit anymore. Fear that your voice doesn’t carry the same weight it used to. So you push louder. You assert harder. But it's not actually building anything.

True assertiveness isn’t about volume.

It’s about vision. Calm, grounded, intentional vision for yourself.

Defining Your Direction

Assertiveness, at its best, isn’t energy directed at others. It starts with you.

Who am I? Who do I want to be? How am I going to get there?

This is where I practice something in my life and with our board: setting one-year and five-year goals. Short-term goals give me something measurable. Long-term goals help ensure my energy is building toward something bigger.

You could extend that out even further—10, 20 years. But for me, in a world that shifts so fast, five or ten years feels like a healthy upper limit for my planning.

The point is, if you don’t know where you want to be a year from now—or five years from now—it doesn’t matter how assertive you are. That energy has nowhere to go.

It becomes bluster.

So write it down. Name your goals. And revisit them regularly.

Assertiveness means very little without a direction.

Just shouting your opinions, declaring your preferences like they’re facts—that’s not manly. That’s noise.

But naming your vision, asserting it to yourself, and calmly setting out to make it real? That’s power.

And that calm piece matters.

The Power of Calm

Because goals rarely unfold in a straight line. Life dips. Circumstances shift. Plans falter. Calm keeps you grounded in the face of that. It stops you from blaming others when things don’t go your way. It brings you back to your vision, reasserts your path, and invites you to try again.

Assertiveness, directed by calm vision, becomes one of the most generative forces in your life.

It doesn't shout. It doesn’t posture.

It simply knows where it’s going.

And it works to get there.

From Aggression to Calculated Risk: Channelling the Drive

Finally, let’s talk about aggression.

Once again, I don’t think aggression is a great term to build an identity around. It carries a weight of negative connotations—and for good reason. But like the other traits we’ve explored, there may be a better direction we can take this natural starting point.

First, let’s acknowledge that there are healthy ways to express aggression. Sports are a great example. I’m not talking about violence or MMA—although that might work for some. I mean challenging your body, testing your limits, and embracing competition in a way that refines you.

I play hockey. I’m not particularly good, but I enjoy it, and I score once in a while. I like the competition, the camaraderie, the physical challenge. It’s a place to push myself and connect with others.

Not into team spots? That’s fine. Earlier in my life, it was running that became an outlet for me. Pushing for a new personal best, or simply showing up when it’s hard to go for that run—those are expressions of drive and energy that can be powerful forces for growth.

We test our limits. We push through fears. We face others and ourselves. And in doing so, we learn what we’re made of—and what we’re capable of becoming.

But this isn’t just about athletics. This is about a core part of who we are. That instinct to challenge, to push, to break through—it needs to find expression in all areas of life. If it doesn’t, it can devolve into aimless resistance. Aggression for aggression’s sake.

The point is finding limits that we can push against.

The Better Frame: Calculated Risk

So instead of aggression, let’s talk about calculated risk.

Risk isn’t aggression for aggression’s sake; it’s purposeful. It’s about choosing to stretch yourself. To move into the unknown with intention. And while that looks different for everyone, it is important for all of us.

Risk That Builds Confidence

Now we all have different risk tolerances. But I’ve been so proud of the way my wife, who is a pretty low-risk person by nature, has taken big risks recently—going back to school, shifting focus, and building something new in her career.

And the result? Confidence. Not just in her work, but in every part of her life. That’s what risk does. It builds something in us that we can’t get any other way.

For those of us who are already wired more aggressively, we need this. We need to learn how to channel that energy into something meaningful. A target to reach toward.

Risk with Wisdom

Now here is where the calculated part comes in, because one piece of advice I picked up from a friend has always stuck with me:

Set goals that are big enough you’ll know if you failed. And small enough, you never bet the farm.

It’s brilliant. So often we aim too small, so vague we can’t tell if we succeeded. Or we go too big—stakes so high we can’t afford to stumble.

Failure, by the way, isn’t the enemy. I’ve learned more from my failures than I ever have from my wins. But what matters is knowing. Clarity. And scaling our risks wisely.

But when I was younger, single, newly married, I could take bigger swings. But now, as a father, as someone leading a community, my risks are still real—but they’re calculated.

I still want to grow. I still have goals. I still want to claim new ground. And I’m proud of what I’ve done so far. But I’m not done.

Aggression doesn’t need to be feared. However, it does need to be shaped by focusing on the goals we want to achieve, rather than on the people around us. And calculated risk? That might be its highest expression.

The Journey of Transformation

What happens when we start with traits like dominance, assertiveness, and aggression, but then allow them to be shaped into something fuller?

Dominance becomes confidence. Assertiveness becomes calm vision. Aggressiveness becomes calculated risk-taking.

We take the raw material of biology—those starting points we didn't choose—and begin to mould them into a life that not only feels fulfilling to us, but becomes meaningful for the people around us.

Because here’s the thing: It’s okay to talk about average male biology, or name typical personality patterns, but if that’s all we ever talk about, we risk reducing masculinity to a caricature. A list of traits, rather than a full human life.

Dominance, assertiveness, aggression—these are not a personality. They’re just the starting points.

Becoming More Than the Stereotype

To grow into a more holistic identity, we need to allow those early traits to sit alongside the other vital elements of being human:

Empathy. Imagination. Verbal dexterity. Big-picture thinking.

And when dominance matures into confidence, it stops being threatened by other people's stories and starts learning from them.

When assertiveness is anchored in vision, it opens us up to new perspectives that can help us grow.

When aggression finds expression in calculated risk, we develop the capacity to zoom out, consider the larger picture, and make moves that serve more than just our immediate desires.

A Fuller Kind of Strength

Ironically, it’s when we start with our strengths—and shape them with intention—that they become the very tools we need to develop the rest of our character.

Because testosterone isn’t the problem.

The problem is a version of masculinity that plays to the caricature. A version that says your value is in being harsh, loud, and controlling. A version that has you living up to someone else's expectations rather than the goals you've consciously set for yourself.

And we can do better than that.

Not by rejecting who we are. But by choosing how we grow.

To name our starting points. To chart our path. And to walk it—for ourselves, for those we love, and for the world we want to shape.