Daughters of Chaos, Sons of Steel

Some men are raised by fathers. Others are forged by fire.

I wasn’t taught how to be a man by example — I learned by contrast. Through silence. Through betrayal. Through being the emotional dustbin for women raised by their own fatherless grief.

These daughters of chaos — they are not evil. They’re lost. But in their loss, they recreate the storm. And if you're not careful, they’ll invite you in, hand you a mop, and call it love.

I used to try to clean it.

Now, I walk through it untouched.

Because I stopped trying to save what didn’t want saving.

A man becomes steel when he stops asking chaos for approval.

That’s what they fear. That’s what they crave. That’s what they test.

Not whether you love them — but whether you’ll betray yourself to keep them.

I don’t. Not anymore.

And that’s why I’m dangerous now.