Rizzle Kicks’ Jordan Stephens: ‘Men, you are beautiful. Just accept it’

A friend of mine was recently told that he was ‘beautiful’ by another man. My friend is a man.
My friend realised in that moment that he couldn’t remember the last time that he was called beautiful. He posted a story on Instagram talking about how good it felt being called beautiful. Just in general too. Not even specifically that it was by another man. Who was straight, I might add, reluctantly.

Unfortunately, it feels important to make that clear because, my god, a lot of men these days are on the ropes. Persistently crippled by a fear of being seen as gay. In the same breath as exclaiming masculinity is all about strength and resilience. Which it can be, among other things. 

So why the fear? Why so fragile? Who cares how another man views you? Doesn’t sound very ‘masculine’ at all. But yeah, two men exchanged beauty with no fear or worry. And my friend was taken aback. Again – not because he was told that by a man. Because he was told that in general. 

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What’s more is that he was apprehensive about even publicly exclaiming how good that made him feel. Out of a fear that he would be “centring” himself. Or that him relaying the truth of his experience would somehow undermine or deflect from the very real dangers people face at the hands of men. He was scared to just say that he enjoyed being called beautiful on the basis it never happens. Is that not a little worrying? That he was worried? 

I reached out to my friend because I had been delving into that conundrum. Coincidentally. I think about it a lot. What it means for society if we live in a time where the large majority of messages that we share about men are negative. I used to talk a lot of the concept of ‘toxic masculinity’. This was about six years ago. Back then, it felt like there was a clear differentiation between that term and masculinity itself. Nowadays I worry that it’s blended. Become enmeshed. I said back then that it was our responsibility to fix it. Us men. To encourage healthier behaviours. To not self destruct all of the time. And I still believe that. 

So we shouldn’t feel that way about highlighting positive behaviour, for whatever reason. Men calling each other beautiful is a reclamation of authentic masculinity in my eyes. Intimacy isn’t supposed to derive entirely from sexual encounters or lie solely with partners. We are in desperate need of finding intimacy in male relationships. I believe that brotherhood, fatherhood and paternity is a communal responsibility. 

It’s important for us to feel as though we’re beautiful because what’s the other option? To live awaiting our inevitable decline into monstrosity? We need balance. And half of that is light. Sunshine. Warmth. Connection. I know it sounds crude but a lot of this really hit home when training my second rescue dog. The golden rule with training dogs is to reward positive behaviour more than punish bad behaviour. Dogs who are solely punished for bad behaviour end up becoming acclimatised to punishment and lose connection with what it feels like to be appreciated. 

If there’s no reward either way, then why wouldn’t they just eat that food on the side? Or run off and scavenge in a bush? Or attack a squirrel? We are still animals. We can philosophise as much as we want. Anything a human being does is as a result of a lack of, or desire for, love. That’s it. 

So my new goal is to uplift the beautiful men I see whenever I can. This is not to say this comes in place of holding other men accountable or shifting culture away from regressive patterns of behaviour. It’s as well as. It’s the balm. The dream is that it moves the needle entirely. Empowers people into an identity that didn’t seem as possible. Step into a blueprint. 

All around me at the moment I see wonderful examples. Men stepping up as fathers in the absence of their own. Men who lift boulders and live peacefully in the woods. Men who run into burning buildings. Talk people off ledges. Fix the wifi. Clear the rubbish. Go down sewers. Donate to their community. Grieve publicly. I’ve seen videos of men pulling children from rubble more often than I’d like to. 

People just need to feel needed. Appreciated. Encouraged. I want to uplift men who uplift women. Men who want to make a difference. Men who feel beautiful. I believe we’d be surprised by the extent of difference that would make. By the lives that would save. It’s been reported that some of the most common words used in suicide notes by men are “useless” and “worthless”. Every single human being on this planet has value. A value beyond numbers on screens. 

I’ve been on this journey myself. Trying to grapple with my own beauty. It’s a work in progress. Still, I dedicate whole streams and pages of my forthcoming book to it. Not in a prescriptive way. Just dissecting my own chaos. Folding it into piles. The book is called Avoidance, Drugs, Heartbreak & Dogs. It’s my attempt at a step towards individual accountability and communal responsibility. Being of service. That might be the most beautiful feeling there is.   

Avoidance, Drugs, Heartbreak & Dogs by Jordan Stephens is out 22 August (Canongate Books, £16.99). You can buy it from The Big Issue shop on Bookshop.org, which helps to support The Big Issue and independent bookshops.

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