Where Are All the Good Men?
- Chris Meehan, MFT
- May 29
- 4 min read
Updated: May 30
From Lost Boys to Men on a Mission
PART 2 of 3. (Part 1 click here)
Where Are All the Good Men?
Nashville? Could be.
Wall Street? Maybe.

Are they on dating apps? Technically.
But most of them ghosted the whole process a couple apps ago and quietly hoped the right person might just show up at the grocery store instead.
So… where are they?
It’s a question I hear all the time in therapy. On dating profiles. At family dinners. From my wife’s single friends.
Sometimes with a laugh. Often with real frustration—and real weariness.
The Modern Dating Fatigue
A lot of people are tired.
Behind the performance of modern dating and self-improvement culture, there’s a kind of low-grade exhaustion. Not just from bad dates or mismatched expectations, but from something deeper—disillusionment.
We were told freedom and self-fulfillment would fix everything. That if we just optimized enough, loved ourselves enough, picked the right filter or said the right thing, it would all click.
But it hasn’t.
Men are hesitant. Women are fed up. Everyone feels like they’re circling each other without ever quite connecting—walking around with invisible bruises from interactions that felt more like transactions.
Online Voices, Real-World Reflections
One Reddit user put it plainly:
“I work a great job, live on my own, am financially independent, have interesting hobbies, and have a good relationship with my friends/family. That being said, where are all the good men? I’m tired of men who don’t work, still live with their parents, aren’t educated, get high/drunk/do drugs, and are momma’s boys. Am I asking for too much—or just the bare minimum?”
Another chimed in:
“Most ‘men’ your age are still living at home and are still ‘boys’… You won’t find quality men online—they only want sex.”
Then came the pushback:
“Maybe it’s that men don’t want to be seen as ATMs or treated like disposable utilities. That’s never going to change.”
And a sharper challenge:
“If you’re regularly not interacting with decent people, that’s a vetting problem. A you problem. Not a man problem.”
Final mic drop:
“If you’re always getting trash, maybe stop looking in the dumpster.”
These anonymous voices echo what I see in therapy every week.
The Skills of Love Are Rusty
Love hasn’t disappeared. But the skills to sustain it have gone a little rusty:

Patience. Listening. Restraint. Sacrifice.
Risking something not for what you get—but for what you give.
We mistook detachment for strength. We made “not needing anyone” sound like the goal. But that doesn’t build anything. Not relationships. Not families. Not legacy.
So when people ask, “Where are all the good men?”—maybe the better question is:
What kind of culture are we forming them in?
False Prophets and Spiritual Decoys
There’s a flood of men reaching for something—anything—that feels strong.
But what’s loudest isn’t always what’s true.
Enter the Instagram alpha coaches.
Preaching conquest instead of character. Dominance over development.
They don’t mentor. They monetize.
They’re not elders. They’re entertainers and hustlers.
And it works—at first. Until men realize they’ve become more performative than present. More curated than grounded.
That’s not masculinity. It’s theater.
And it leaves men even more disconnected—from others, from themselves, and from the kind of life they actually want to build.
That’s not just a distraction—it’s a spiritual decoy.
If we want to raise up good men, we have to revalue what doesn’t trend:
Fidelity. Humility. Consistency. Follow-through.
Not sexy. But real.
And real lasts.
From Location to Formation
So where are they?
If we stop treating masculinity like a personality quiz or an aesthetic, we can start asking better questions.
Boys no longer learn to shave by watching their fathers—they learn from YouTube tutorials.

But it was never just about shaving.
It was about connection.
Presence.
A shared moment with someone who showed them who they were becoming.
What Forms a Man?
He needs to be seen. He needs to be challenged.
He needs a sense of responsibility—and something real to protect.
And more than anything, he needs a vision of who he could become.
But values aren’t inherited. They’re trained.
They grow under pressure—through repetition.
Over time, they become character.
A man becomes who he is by what he repeatedly says yes to—and what he’s willing to say no to.
We often define ourselves by what we choose.
But we forget the power of what we refuse.
To say yes to love, purpose, integrity—almost always means saying no to distraction, compromise, or comfort.

There’s power in delayed gratification.
There’s fulfillment through sacrifice.
That’s often where manhood begins.
Behind every dating profile that says “no games” or “just be real” is someone hoping for depth.
Not perfection. Not a vibe.
Something real.
A Different Kind of Man
It points to something deeper than etiquette. It speaks to
self-awareness. Restraint. Presence.
Those traits don’t just appear—they’re practiced. Formed.
As David Carr once said:
“Toxic masculinity? It’s not that complicated. Be a gentleman. Be a mensch.”
It might sound simple. But it’s not easy.
Because being a good man isn’t instinctual—it’s intentional.
You have to learn to hold discomfort without lashing out.
To own your desire without using it as currency.
To lead without controlling.
To serve without vanishing.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about repetition.
Over time, the practice becomes the pattern.
And the pattern becomes the man.
The Man in the Room
So, where do you find a man like that?
Probably not through a checklist.
Maybe not even on the apps.
More likely in the places where people are still showing up:
In real life. Under real pressure.

Doing real things.
At the grocery store.
At a volunteer event.
At his kid’s game.
Maybe even at ladies’ night at Margaritaville—if he’s got a sense of humor and isn’t trying too hard.
That’s where you start.
Want more? Read Part I: click here
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