What the heck is a performative male now?

One of the most (frustratingly) fascinating things about social media today is that everything you see is a performance. The "woke up like this" pictures, the carefully curated morning rituals that creators claim they cannot live without, the simple acts of kindness, even the calculated rage bait—it’s all a show. In fact, these performances are driven by trends that draw in audiences because of their relatability—cue in the "I'm just a girl standing in front of a boy..." scene from Notting Hill. Take the matcha craze, for instance. A simple drink with cultural roots and surprising health benefits went viral, forcing people to make every sip they took a performance, with dreamy prep videos, ‘casual’ shots with perfectly placed accessories that are most definitely not your average everyday essentials, and so on. 

And these performances are certainly not limited to any one gender. The recent performative male trend is proof enough. 

Now you may not know what it means, but you definitely know the type. They're all over social media, crowding in trendy cafes, indie concerts, underground art shows, poetry readings, and the occasional rooftop screenings of old films in a foreign language. And yes, they've taken over dating apps like Hinge and Bumble too, where their entire personality is one big performance.

Reads feminist literature (at least the popular ones)? Check.

Always has a book in his cute little tote that he doesn't go anywhere without? Check.

Bonus points if he drinks matcha, listens to vinyl, and is all about healthy meal preps and against single-use plastic and disposable items—but will still stan Taylor Swift, whose private jet emissions could single-handedly melt the polar ice caps.

Performative manipulation in disguise? 

Now, the internet adores the performative male trope. He is gentle, kind, asks about your feelings, and even encourages discussions about healthy skincare routines and therapy. Of course, he can do no wrong. A close look at this guy might remind you of "mamma's boys", but with fewer traits of the toxic manchild, of course. But look even closer, and you will start to notice the cracks. His manipulation comes disguised as vulnerability. He decides to open up to you, but it's only on his own terms, allowing you to feel comfortable enough to do the same. 

The problem is that this vulnerability isn’t genuine trust-building, just a mere tool to exploit your insecurities. He talks about your worries as if he has your best interest at heart, subtly guiding your choices under the guise of honesty and transparency. He doesn’t yell or lose control; instead, he uses charm to convince you he truly cares, all while quietly steering you exactly where he wants.

Part of the obsession comes from the fact that he’s a walking aesthetic. He ticks every box for the “I’m different” brand of masculinity: intellectual but approachable, feminist but flirty, sensitive but stylish. Basically, he's the male version of the pick-me girl. He fits neatly into Instagram’s language of muted ceramics, linen shirts, and bookshop selfies. And because we live in a world where men still (feel) socially conditioned to embody strength and toughness (hello hyper-masculinity), his soft persona feels refreshing, until it doesn't. 

It’s not just harmless hipster energy

It’s tempting to write him off as just another harmless trend, you know, the 2025 remix of the scarf-wearing, coffeehouse poet who quotes Rumi while sipping on oat milk matcha lattes. But when their entire personality is laid out on the 'gram for clout, it's usually a replica of aesthetics that aren’t really his to claim, quietly pushing aside the people who created them in the first place, you know, the real literature-reading-matcha-drinking-closet-poets. 

Sure, he might look like the polar opposite of the loud, hyper-masculine manosphere bros (who treat Andrew Tate like their God)—but they’re both working off a script of what a man “should” be, except they’re just auditioning for different roles.

Now, the performative male isn’t necessarily a bad guy. Sometimes he really is the gentle, thoughtful, self-aware person who genuinely cares about causes, relationships, and living a little softer in a world that rewards the opposite. But when even vulnerability becomes a prop for likes, and every “authentic” moment is edited for the grid, it gets harder to tell where the man ends and the performance begins. That’s the tricky part: you’re not dating him, you’re dating the character he’s been perfecting online.

The truth is, we all perform a little; it's just how social media works. But it's the intention that makes a difference. The real green flag is the guy who doesn’t need an audience to be emotionally available, progressive, or kind. No tote bag, no matcha, no aesthetic. Just the real thing.

Lead image: Pexels, Amazon 

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