The man-child projects a simultaneous sense of not being comfortable in his own skin and perpetually on display to others. He’s twitchy, approval-seeking, and doesn’t know when to shut up. He’s never been tested to anywhere near the limits of his physical or moral courage, and deep within himself he knows that because of this he is weak. Unproven. Not really a man. And it shows in a lot of little ways – posture, gaze patterns, that sort of thing. He’ll overreact to small challenges and freeze or crumble under big ones.
Eric Raymond writes that "manliness is very nearly defined by stoicism and grace under pressure". The qualifier "nearly" is necessary because the definition is gender-neutral. Traditional East-Asian femininity is very nearly defined by "stoicism and grace under pressure" too. In the epic samurai novel Musashi, by Eiji Yoshikawa, the most stoic and graceful character is the woman Otsū, who embodies the power of archetypical femininity (in juxtoposition to the masculine protagonist Miyamoto Musashi).
In East Asian culture, adult behavior for both men and woman is very nearly defined as "stoicism and grace under pressure". It's been this way for thousands of years. But in the West, "stoicism and grace under pressure" has recently become gendered. An adult male must exhibit stoicism and grace under pressure if he is to be a man. An adult female is not held to the same standard.
The Guardian writes "Efforts have been made to challenge traditional stereotypes, but there is still pressure on men to be [among other things] stoical". Are you kidding me? The Progressive feminist response to "men are unfairly expected to exhibit stoicism and grace under pressure" is that men should not be held to that high of a standard. That's backwards. Every adult, regardless of sex, should aspire to exhibit stoicism and grace under pressure.