Life as an ordinary bloke.

Back in October 2020, I was invited to deliver an opening speech in Oxford, at an event organised by the mental wellbeing charity MIND, as part of International Mens Day.

Today, in 2023, recent media activity and posts on LinkedIn prompted me to dig out my transcript of that speech and share it, verbatim, here. Things have moved on quite a bit since 2020 for this particular man and the world around him. The significant changes in my life will be discussed in other forums.

Tales from a life spent being a man.

'Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen and, thank you MIND for both organizing what promises to be a wonderful event, celebrating an important day AND for inviting me along to share some humble thoughts with you all.

I am Steve. I’m a father of 5, a strategist and a proud bloke.?

As I have reflected on today and on the reason why we are having this event, I became unbelievably concerned about my role in it.

I am, after all, just an ordinary man. There is nothing about me that is in any way extraordinary, exciting, different, perplexing, challenging or worth celebrating - or even talking about.

But then I realized that perhaps that was the point. Perhaps being an ‘ordinary bloke’ is in fact, really important.

Perhaps all those other really ordinary blokes out there have important and exciting stories to tell, ideas to share, fears to face and qualities to bring to the world. Perhaps these should be explored and discussed through my own lens and life experiences and, perhaps, by exploring these, we can all think about ordinary men in ways that make them, us, feel extraordinary.?

So, I’m going to share a few moments from my own life experience thus far and on my own aspirations for the future that might shed some light on this specific ordinary man. Forgive me for getting personal – but maybe that is what this is all about.

I was born in the 60’s, grew to traditional adulthood and then rebellion in the 70’s, saw the real highs of life in the 80’s, saw the lows in the 90’s, got naughty – angry even, in the naughties, became disillusioned in the early 2010’s and then found peace in the second half of the last decade. The twenties for me, like everyone else, is a whole different ball game.?

I am absolutely a product of the eras that I have lived through.

I grew up in a world where men were men. I learned to not talk about myself or show weakness. I learned that school, exams and learning the rules were important, I learned that men went to work and women didn’t – and that having a job was my future role and quietly providing for a future family was my purpose. I learned that girls wore pink and that I had to look after my mum and kid sister and that dads were distant beings who shouted a lot when you told them how you felt (or in my case shouted all the time and called you ‘boy’ – I still hate that word).?

I learned that when a mate got hurt or had a crisis your response was to laugh, make a joke about his pain, tell all your other mates the joke and only then, as a last resort, actually help – but only when your mate asked for it – which he never did because like me, he was busy NOT showing weakness. I learned that stoic bravado was the way to behave. So far, so traditional.??

And then, miraculously for me, at the age of 13 (in 1977), punk happened. If you happen to love music, are already challenging all your parents ever taught you, already beginning to drift away from rules at school and already questioning the ‘normals’ of life AND are in central London where the action is, PUNK was manna from heaven.

Punk gave me permission to get angry and self-express. Punk taught me that men could wear pink too – and black eye liner. It was an amazing time but it was also angry, full of tribalism, full of violence, full of those who thought it was ok to be benignly or actively racist or homophobic or misogynistic and those, like me, that militantly thought it wasn’t. There was serious trouble on the streets and trouble in my mind, the walls came crashing down in every sense.

When I wasn’t running away from my parents or teachers, I was running away from skinheads and National Front Nazi’s but mostly, I was running away from traditional roles and I was running away from….. me.??

By the start of the 80’s, I only really had one choice, one vocation, one place to go. That was Art School. This was where the rebels went to turn their angry thoughts into beautiful ideas. This was where I learned that being a man wasn’t as simple as I had been led to believe.

This was where my entire future was created. I studied conceptual thinking and my mentors for 5 years were Paul Peter Piech and Stanley Kubrick. You learn a lot from men like that. At Art School, I learned that girls were at least equals in every sense and most certainly didn’t need ‘looking after’. When it comes to ideas creation, wow, I learned that everybody was equal, had voice and had enormous strength. Any vestiges of barriers to equality that I may have grown up with were categorically kicked down.

By 1983 I had skipped merrily into advertising - as an art then creative director. I met all sorts of men that I’d never met before and it was a revelation. We were given permission to be as brave, extrovert, challenging, and ideas focused as possible. In fact our careers depended on this. In the 80’s where all sorts of barriers were being broken down everywhere, life was a blast. I could be me. I could open up, share fears, show weaknesses, share ideas without worrying that I’d be laughed at. I grew into a man but without all the baggage that seemed to come with that ‘title’. All traditional bets were off. Hurrah!!

But the strange thing was, although in our little world everything was new and changing everyday, when we ventured into the clients world, it was pretty much as my dads world had been. Nothing was different. Men were men. The corporate culture that they inhabited seemed to make the men - and women – behave in ways that I couldn’t understand. Now, although this is starting to change, I think in no small measure, the corporate world still does – so sad.

By 1987, I was married to someone crazier than me. Life was spent going to gigs and poetry slams, being pseudo intellectual, being the life and soul at crazy parties and really not caring very much about anything – and certainly not about my traditional role as a man. But 1988, in the middle of all this, also brought a change that had, and still has, 32 years later, the most profound effect on me.?

Dad-dom.

As I held my brand new daughter in my arms in the hospital, everything immediately changed. It was like the proverbial lightning bolt. This was weird because I’d spent 9 months telling myself that nothing much would be any different. What a na?ve fool!!!

I immediately resolved that I would be THAT dad, the fun, loving, freedom giving, supportive and providing dad that I had never had. I vowed that my wife and daughter would be my world and that I would be theirs. I vowed that I would never shout or be angry with my daughter – and I never have. I vowed that we would be the happiest of happy families and that I would be a caring sharing man – a father.

By 1990, I had another beautiful daughter, my own business, a good home and a great life. Wonderful. I was learning how to be the man I had vowed to be.

But all this came to an abrupt end in 1994.?

My world came crashing down around me, personally and professionally, in the most profound ways possible and I told... absolutely no one. Classic man.

I carried on AS NORMAL but I discovered that being a single man with kids is a very difficult thing to be.??

I desperately tried to make a home for my children. This initially wasn’t easy but hey, life was fun. We made the most of it, we were the Three Musketeers and I was the happy, busy, supportive man that they knew as their dad.

I remember once being in a park having a picnic with my daughters on a sunny day. It was excellent. One of my girls sneezed and that odd, nuclear green snot came out. Every mother (the park was filled with mothers) reached for tissues to give to me but I thanked them, declined, and then got my own from my bag. They all looked surprised that a man could have such parental foresight.?

I realized that no matter how much I believed that I was a superhero dad and had been an exemplary husband, this was not the way that many in society saw me. As a single dad I must be incapable, I must be really bad. I must be that stereotypical man.

From that point, this ordinary bloke retreated from life, went through the motions, only focused on his children and didn’t really care about much else. I became fascinated by the human condition which, frankly, made me better at my job. I really started to think about all those other ordinary blokes who had been misunderstood and mistreated but I kept my thoughts to myself. I didn’t rock any boats and I led a quiet but entirely fake life. I completely forgot how to be me – and I still didn’t talk about it in any meaningful way with anyone.

As far as my friends, family and colleagues were concerned, I was fine because I kept giving them ‘I’m fine’ vibes. Everyone just assumed that I’d been through some troubles but was clearly alright. My stoicism stopped me reaching out and because I was a man, no-one ever asked me how I was.

The nineties were dreadful. I never got any help. I never sought any. I was able to lead a strangely parallel existence where I could address other men's issues like erectile dysfunction when I launched Viagra across Europe or HIV/AIDS when I worked to brand and market new virology treatments or with friends when they sadly got divorced. I could be the outrageous creative or the life and soul at parties but, this was all an act – fake Steve.????

The good news ladies and gentlemen is that this is the end of the gloomy part of my tales from an ordinary man.

A 21st Century man?

The new millennium brought a new Steve into the world and the world had started to change profoundly. I’d been asleep for a few years but when I woke up it was into some really bright light.

The 2000’s were challenging and confusing for most people on some level, including me, but they also brought me a new partner, 3 more beautiful children, opportunities to do my bit to change things further and a growing career. By the time my partner relationship ended in 2008, I kidded myself that I was mature, bullet-proof, self reliant, emotionally strong and over the na?ve, idealistic ways of thinking about myself and my family. I finally grew up and became a realist but it was all fake - self delusional even.

I saw my role as a man and the roles of men around me changing too. I saw attitudes to men beginning to change and I started to see the beginnings of a real breaking down of the traditional views of men that I had been given in my early life and that had been perpetuated in the media ever since.

I began to see these views breaking down in business and more recently in wider society. But I also felt that this wasn’t happening fast enough, that change could be accelerated further, that we all had a responsibility to think and conduct ourselves differently.

I actually became a little angry with myself for not doing more and I wondered if we, as society, could ever, meaningfully, break through the crust of tradition. I was angry that I still found it difficult to really share my own feelings with others and that despite every effort, I was finding it hard to shake past events off.

I was also finding it difficult to navigate through the narratives about ‘men’ (as if those broad brush perspectives could ever truly describe each man - all men) that were diminishing us, reducing us to the kicking post for other, valid, agendas. I watched inequality manifest everywhere including by many who were claiming a place in the equality game.???

I carried these thoughts into the 2010’s when everything in my world became more urgent, more determined to achieve something of worth, more enquiring about those age old questions that people ask as they get older – what is life all about? And what's my role in it?

2015 saw the most magnificent moment in my professional life when I chose to give up my career and focus on the human, systemic, societal challenges that I saw all around me (addition - the outcome was what has become Unstitution) and today, because, ironically, of the pandemic, I am starting to see real change in the world. I hope that one day soon this change reaches us ordinary blokes in meaningful ways and we can begin to be considered as equals based on a new understanding of all we can contribute that is good.?

And that is my story (or at least a small part of it).

There is nothing extraordinary in it at all. Everyone here has got their own stories and possibly similar paths. Everyone has had their own triumphs, failures, bad habits and extraordinary strengths.

Today, I see dads being seen and seeing themselves in completely different ways to how my dad and myself, as a young dad, were seen. I see men sharing feelings much more – albeit only when they feel safe. I see men feeling much more comfortable talking about their physical and mental wellbeing but I think we have a long way to go with this.

Most importantly, I see men reappraising their roles in family, work and society much more than ever before. I see a groundswell of change happening and with it an awakening to a whole new age of men. It has been a long journey and shaking off tradition is no easy task, but I think we will get there.??

I have no moral to share with you. No cathartic take away from my story, except to say that despite all the trials and tribulations, all the pain and joy, all the good and bad press we get, all the wild and wide views of us, I really think it is time to celebrate being men and to live our lives in ways that are worthy of celebration.

Thank you'.

So, that was then and this is now. What the future brings for all of us - each of us - is being speculated on all over the world. I am part of this and proud and stressed as a result. I have never differentiated anyone from anyone else. We each have our strengths and vulnerabilities. I prefer to celebrate all of these. ?