What makes MEN different from WOMEN

Just a thought not a story

3 min read

1 hour ago

Listen

I don’t know where this thought originally came from, but I’ve carried it with me for a long time. I’ve often felt that women are really good at almost everything they do, but rarely seen as the absolute best at one single thing. On the other hand, men often seem brutally bad at many things, but somehow manage to master one specific area really deeply.

When I was a child, there was a girl in my school who made this feeling stronger for me. She was good at everything academics, sports, activities, discipline, communication — almost effortlessly. She never stood out in a loud or dramatic way, but she was consistently excellent. There was no single thing you could point to and say, “this is the only thing she’s good at,” because she was good at everything.

Around her were boys who struggled academically, emotionally, socially,but each of them had one obsession, one narrow path where all their chaos aligned into focus. That focus often turned into identity. And identity, I’ve realized, is something the world listens to.

this made me question how we define greatness. Do we mistake intensity for depth? Do we reward specialization because it is easier to measure than balance? Perhaps mastery is visible because it excludes, while completeness remains invisible because it includes.

Get Asmitumrao’s stories in your inbox

Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.

Maybe some people are built to sharpen themselves into a blade, and others to become a landscape — less dramatic, but enduring. One cuts through the moment; the other holds life together.

I don’t know which is greater. I only know that the world seems louder in its praise for extremes, even though it quietly depends on those who can carry many things at once.

I don’t claim that these patterns are universal, or even accurate in every context. They feel more like impressions shaped by experience than conclusions shaped by evidence. Still, I find them worth examining, because they raise deeper questions about how ability, focus, and value are perceived.

Some people seem to develop breadth before depth. They learn to manage multiple skills, adapt to different expectations, and maintain consistency across roles. Their growth is horizontal, spreading quietly across many areas. Others develop vertically. They narrow their attention, sacrifice balance, and allow weakness in many areas so that one strength can grow without interruption.

Neither approach is inherently superior. Breadth creates stability; depth creates breakthroughs. A system collapses without generalists, but it also stagnates without specialists. Yet recognition tends to follow visibility, and visibility often belongs to extremes.

Perhaps this is why mastery is so often celebrated. It is easier to point at a single peak than to appreciate a wide plateau. A person who excels at one thing provides a clear story — talent, struggle, triumph. A person who performs well across many domains resists simple narratives. Their competence becomes background noise.