Maxime lay down on his bed, his mind still agitated by the video and the comments he had read. As he closed his eyes, memories of his childhood began to surface—images he had often tried to forget but which remained engraved in him, silently influencing his thoughts and actions.

He saw himself again, as a child, in the small family house. His father, an imposing man with a loud voice and abrupt manners, was often an intimidating figure. Maxime recalled the many moments when he had sought his father's approval, trying to meet his expectations.

He was an eight-year-old boy, playing in the garden with his younger sister. They had built a fort with branches and sheets, laughing and having innocent fun. Suddenly, his father had appeared, frowning.

"Maxime, come here," he had said in an authoritative voice.

The young boy had approached, his heart pounding. His father looked him up and down, then placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing? Playing with sheets like a girl? You need to be stronger than that. Stop being so fragile. A man does not cry; he does not show his weaknesses."

These words had struck him like a blow. Maxime, eyes lowered, had simply nodded, feeling a shame he did not yet fully understand.

Another memory transported him to the age of twelve, at school. He had been bullied by taller classmates. When he returned home, with tears in his eyes, he had hoped to find comfort. But his father was waiting for him in the living room.

"Still having problems at school?" he had asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Maxime had explained the situation, secretly hoping his father would understand. But the response had been harsh.

"You need to fight, Maxime. Don't let anyone walk all over you. A man defends himself; he does not allow himself to be humiliated. Next time, show them what you're made of."

These words had planted a seed of doubt in him, creating a constant tension between his desire to be himself and the fear of never being strong enough in his father's eyes.

At sixteen, Maxime had finally dared to cry in front of his father after a painful breakup. He had hoped to find compassion, but his father's words had been like a cold shower.

"Stop crying over a girl. Men don't cry about relationships. Be strong; show some character. This world isn't for the weak."

These memories continued to haunt Maxime, even years later. They formed a mosaic of moments when he had been pushed to deny his emotions, to hide his sensitivity behind a facade of strength. But that facade had never truly represented him.

Returning to the present, Maxime opened his eyes, feeling a heaviness in his chest. He now understood that his father's expectations had left deep scars, influencing his relationships and his perception of what it means to be a man.

He also realized that these male role models from his childhood were not the only influences. He remembered his uncle, a gentle and understanding man, who had always encouraged Maxime to be himself. His uncle had been a rare source of support, but his father's voice had been louder and more insistent.

Maxime got up and walked to the bathroom mirror, looking straight into his own eyes. "You are not weak, Maxime," he said to himself in a low voice. "Strength does not lie only in muscles or in the ability to hide your emotions. True strength lies in being honest with yourself and with others."

By confronting these memories, Maxime understood that he needed to free himself from his father's expectations. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to redefine what it means to be a man in his own eyes.

He emerged from the bathroom with a new resolve. The male role models of his childhood had left their mark, but it was time to forge his own path—one where he could be both strong and sensitive, able to defend himself while remaining authentic. It was a quest that would require courage, but Maxime felt ready to undertake it.