What Alison Armstrong Taught Me About Men, Women, and How I Show Up
What Alison Armstrong Taught Me About Men, Women, and How I Show Up
For most of my life, I assumed my struggles in relationships were personal failures — moments where I wasn’t “enough,” or where I misread situations because something was wrong with me. Alison Armstrong’s work has been one of the few frameworks that didn’t shame me or ask me to be someone I’m not. Instead, it offered a way of understanding men and women that finally made things click.
This isn’t a summary of her philosophy.
It’s about what her ideas did inside me — how they shifted my perspective, calmed my nervous system, and helped me approach connection with more ease and less fear.
1. We’re Not Built the Same — and That’s Not a Problem
One of Armstrong’s central ideas is that men and women operate differently at a fundamental level. Not better or worse — just different operating systems.
For me, this was strangely healing.
It softened the shame around my instinctive way of focusing on one thing at a time, disappearing into purpose, or needing solitude to regulate myself.
It reframed past moments of tension with women.
Not as “I’ve failed here,” but “We’re reading the same moment with different wiring.”
That subtle shift changed everything.
2. Hunter vs. Gatherer: My Energy Makes Sense
Armstrong describes men as “hunters” — focused, purpose-driven, task-oriented.
Women as “gatherers” — relational, multi-focused, tuned into emotional textures.
I’ve always been a hunter.
When I’m in a poker session, fixing the house, building something for my son, or writing, my whole body goes into that one thing.
In the past, I interpreted women’s confusion or distance during those moments as disappointment or disconnection — like I was somehow failing them.
Now I see it differently:
- I wasn’t withdrawing.
- I wasn’t losing interest.
- I wasn’t becoming emotionally unavailable.
I was just being a man in hunter mode.
And the right woman won’t fear that — she’ll understand it.
There’s a peace in finally recognising your own nature.
3. Appreciation Fuels Me, Connection Fuels Them
Another Armstrong idea that hit home:
Men energise through appreciation. Women energise through connection.
I’ve always felt a surge of strength when someone genuinely appreciates what I’ve done — for my son, for the house, for the effort I put into growth. It lights something in me.
Women, on the other hand, feel safety through emotional presence.
Understanding this helped me stop over-giving or trying to solve everything.
Most of the time, the strongest thing I can offer is presence — not performance.
4. Women Need Context, Men Need Clarity
A woman’s silence used to send me into a spiral.
My mind would instantly jump to:
- “I’ve said something wrong.”
- “She’s losing interest.”
- “I’m being judged.”
Armstrong helped me realise that women communicate through tone, context, and shared emotional meaning — not just words or logic. Silence doesn’t always mean something is wrong; sometimes it’s processing, pacing, or simply life.
This gave me permission to ask clear, grounded questions instead of reacting from fear.
It also taught me that clarity isn’t rude — it’s kindness.
5. A Woman’s Pace Is Not Rejection
One thing I really needed to internalise:
Women calibrate safety gradually.
Men often decide quickly.
This explains so much of my past anxiety.
When a connection felt meaningful to me, I wanted to lean in.
When she took her time, I interpreted it as hesitancy or disinterest.
Now I see it as pacing.
As a natural part of her nervous system.
Not a comment on my worth.
This helped me slow down, breathe, and stay grounded instead of chasing or withdrawing.
6. My Need for Space Is Healthy
Armstrong emphasises that a man often steps back to return more present.
He uses solitude not to escape, but to re-centre.
This is profoundly true for me.
Solitude is where:
- I regulate
- I think
- I reconnect
- I refill myself
For years I felt guilty about this — as if time alone made me a less loving partner or father.
Now I see it as part of my strength.
Part of how I stay emotionally available.
7. The Core Wounds: “Am I Enough?” vs “Am I Safe?”
Armstrong says men fear inadequacy.
Women fear abandonment.
When I first heard that, something landed deep inside.
I’ve carried the “not enough” wound my whole life — rooted in childhood, reinforced in past relationships. And every time I interpreted a woman’s behaviour through that lens, I misunderstood her.
Now I recognise the pattern:
My wound says, “I’m not enough.”
Her wound says, “Will you disappear?”
Instead of two people failing each other, it’s two nervous systems seeking safety.
That perspective brings compassion instead of shame.
How This Changes the Way I Date
These insights help me:
- stop personalising pauses
- pace myself
- offer presence instead of over-giving
- take space without guilt
- read signals without fear
- trust myself more
- let things unfold instead of controlling them
It helps me show up as me — grounded, patient, and real.
And that’s the version of me I want to bring into any relationship that’s meant to last.
Why This Matters for My Son
Everything I’m learning here becomes something I can pass on to him — not through lectures, but through the way I model connection, presence, and self-trust.
If he grows up knowing:
- his nature isn’t something to apologise for
- his feelings make sense
- his need for focus and purpose is healthy
- his worth isn’t measured by perfection
- women aren’t mysterious enemies, just different nervous systems
…then he’ll be a far gentler, more grounded man than I ever was at his age.
And that feels important.
Closing
Alison Armstrong didn’t give me a manual for women.
She gave me a deeper understanding of myself — and a way to stop shaming my instinctive masculine patterns.
She also gave me hope.
Not the naïve kind, but the grounded kind.
The kind that says:
If I keep showing up steadily, slowly, and honestly…
connection will find me in its own time.