10 Ways Women Are Outmanning Men in 2025: The Great Gender Inversion

She’s shotgunning beers in a floss bikini with a snake tattoo up her ribs. While you’re meal prepping quinoa, sipping lattes, and asking your group chat if it’s okay to jerk off. Wake the fuck up.

I sleep with one eye open and two fingers on her thigh.

Let me take you for a walk.
Not the kind your mother warned you about, but the kind where you come back changed and maybe a little sunburned. I’m the bastard in the linen shirt with a cigarette barely hanging on, gold sun slicing my skin, salt drying on my shoulders, eyes squinted half closed but seeing everything the rest of the world ignores.

I step out of church on this lovely Sunday morning and the crowd flows around me like water over rocks. Men with tight collars holding their wives purses, little boys clutching plastic dinosaurs, old dudes with necks that look like walnut shells fucked a turkey gobbler. But the pews were almost completely empty of women, and I clock it, file it away like a detail from a crime scene. Strange. My mom was the one always making sure we made it to church.

My girl’s beside me, head thrown back, laughing at some private joke I whispered in her cute little ear, the kind of laugh that makes priests question their vows. I cut left down the street, unbutton my shirt and sling it over my shoulder, sweat cooling on my chest as the ocean air smacks me awake. I’ll take you with me, yes, you, reader I’m not letting you go just yet. Anyways the world is always a better movie with an audience.

I see them before I hear them. women spilling out of a kickboxing gym, inked up, shoulders broad and bright with sweat, shouting jokes at each other that’d make a Marine blush. They’re not moving like prey, they’re moving like the predators used to. Every single one marked by a tattoo, a piercing, a story carved somewhere you only get to see after three rounds and a locked door. I flick ash from my cigarette, watching the sidewalk turn into their stage.

You smell the salt, you feel the heat, but there’s a chill in how things have flipped. The men are inside, hunched over laptops and lattes, worried about SPF, timing their caffeine intake (some dumb 90 minute rule mr Gandrew Gooberman made up for when they can drink their coffee) and staring at their inboxes. The women are taking over the city like pirates.. bare skin, loud voices, shameless hunger for life. I grin, I can’t help it. The world’s gone upside down and nobody but me seems in on the joke.

I drag you with me to the beach parking lot. I’m unstrapping my surfboard, half listening to the hostel across the way where every balcony is packed with girls. Some in slutty thong hoe bikinis, some in Leslie’s cargo shorts, some with blue hair, all of them sunburnt, laughing too loud, plotting trips and swapping stories about countries I’ve never bothered to Google. Not a single guy in sight. I imagine the dudes inside, making lattes, trying to manifest a loving girlfriend with affirmations. Sad.

We cut back past the bar, yeah, it’s still barely brunch time, and the patio is loaded with women on espresso martinis, cussing like felons, telling war stories about exes, jobs, one night stands. They’re roaring, gesturing, knocking back drinks in what used to be a man’s world. I hear one girl say “I FUCKED him last night” Fucked. Not made love. Not we had sex. FUCKED. What type of girl describes having sex with someone like that. You can almost hear the world laughing and rolling its eyes. I laugh with her. deep, mean, honest. It’s so good, it’s almost evil.

Everyone else is squinting at screens, searching for meaning, missing the biggest culture riot in a century happening right under their noses.

I don’t fit in, never have, never tried. I walk slow through the heat, ocean on one side, the world’s little circus on the other, linen shirt over my shoulder (a Red ralph lauren one today), golden and sun touched and slightly dangerous. I watch the men playing it safe and the women breaking every rule men invented. I want you to see it, to taste it with me the flavor of the world gone off script, sweet and wild and a little bit tragic.

Let’s walk into the sun and count the bodies. The revolution’s already happened.
You just didn’t notice.

10 Ways Women are turning into Men.

1. Women Are Out Drinking Men (The Era of Girlboss Blackouts)

I used to think brunch was just code for boring sex and overpriced eggs, but walk past any bar before noon and you’ll see it’s now the Thunderdome of estrogen. Last Sunday, I watched a pack of girls crush tequila shots and espresso martinis at ten a.m., cackling like they’d just robbed a bank. By noon, they were barefoot on the beach, one of them waving her bra like a white flag. Meanwhile, every guy I know is “on a juice cleanse” (only thing they are cleansing is all the testosterone out of their body fucking dummies) or drinking soda water with lemon “for gut health.”

2. Women Cuss Like Sailors And Laugh Harder Doing It

You want to hear filth then go Sit next to a table of women after a kickboxing class. I once heard a girl in a sundress describe her ex using words that would make Quentin Tarantino apologize. The men nearby were Whispering about cold plunges and split squats, like they’re afraid the ghosts of their grandmothers are eavesdropping.
Her group chat could end a presidential campaign. Yours is a safe space for “checking in.” PUSSIES

3. Women are getting more tattoos than men now.

Every woman I’ve dated in the last five years had at least three tattoos. one for trauma, one for astrology, and one she swears is “just for her.” Men, meanwhile, are getting their tribal bands lasered off or scared of a poke. I don’t even care for tattoos, never needed the extra decoration, I was born art. Okay I have a few but you can’t deny it nothing says “rebellion” like a snake slithering up a sunburnt ribcage.
She’s got ink on her skin and fire in her eyes.
You’ve got a faded scar from losing a fight with your pet cat and a prescription for eczema cream.

4. Women Are the solo travelers now

Forget Hemingway and Marco Polo nowadays its sarah and Janice abroad exploring new lands. At the airport last month, every passport with a personality was attached to a girl with sunburn and a middle finger ready for customs. Guys are in the lounge, tracking their Oura rings and buying labubus or whatever rainbow loving stuffed thing is fucking called. I met a girl from Sweden who’d hitchhiked through Guatemala and nearly got abducted twice she laughed about it over mezcal, said, “It’s more dangerous to trust a man than a jungle.”
She’s got jungle stories; you’ve got a rewards program and credit card points you fucking pithy loser.

5. Men Are the New Modest

This summer, I took my shirt off on the boardwalk by the beach and two dads looked at me like I’d just pissed on their Yeti cooler. Meanwhile, every woman’s walking around in a bikini so small a fucking gay ant would wear more clothing. The only people shirtless on the streets are ten year olds and grandmas who lost a bet or are from Spain.
She’s wearing a floss bikini and buying another margarita. You’re sweating in your “UV protectant” long sleeve like a stepdad at Disneyland you fatass bitch.

6. Hostels, Bars, and Kickboxing All Run By Women Now

I walked into a surf hostel last month nine girls in the kitchen, not a single guy except the one behind the front desk (and I’m 90% sure he was just hiding from them). The girls had planned a bar crawl, a tattoo appointment, and a sunrise hike all before I’d finished rolling my cigarette. Men crying explaining “I’m resetting my nervous system, bro.”
She’s leading the wolfpack. You’re watching breathwork tutorials.

7. Religion: Men Seek, Women Sin

Last Easter, I went to church to Worship God and people watch. The pews were packed with lost dudes looking for a purpose and a wife who won’t cheat on them. The only girls there were singing in the choir or with their families texting their friend about post mass mimosas. Women are leaving the church.

8. Women Are the New Rebels meanwhile Men Are Addicted to Health Routines

Saw a woman crash a scooter into a mailbox at 1 PM, stand up, laugh, and light a cigarette and hit a stranger’s vape. Her boyfriend was on the curb, telling her about magnesium and sleep hygiene for healing. The most dangerous thing most guys do now is double scoop preworkout.
She’s got a chipped tooth and a court summons. You’ve got 9 hours on your sleep app and a $300 protein jug.

9. Sex Scandals Female Predators, Male Late Bloomers

I know three guys who lost their virginity after a yoga teacher lured them in with astrology. Scroll through social media and there’s constantly new stories of teachers getting in trouble for doing stuff with their students. Who’s telling on them by the way confused.

10. Men Are The New Homebodies. Women Are The Pirates

Men are meal prepping and streaming Huberman podcasts, Women are planning another trip, buying gym outfits, solo traveling, learning martial arts and guitar while you are catching up on your latest brain washing show. Wake up. When’s the last time you came home with sand in your sheets and a story you can’t tell your mom?

You’ve walked with me through the back alleys and sunburned boardwalks, you’ve laughed at the world’s insanity, and maybe just maybe you felt that little tiny pulse in your chest, that itch, that craving for something more. You can feel it, can’t you? That fire you’ve been ignoring, that dangerous voice telling you life could be bigger, wilder, unscripted.

You already know where the safe path leads. another year, another inbox full of bullshit, another quiet night convincing yourself you’ll start living next month.

But not you. Not anymore. Not if you’re reading this and actually feeling something.

everything you want is on the other side of giving less of a fuck, and taking more of your destiny.
I built this outlaw gospel for the ones who refuse to die with their legend still caged inside.
If you want a normal life, there are a million guides out there written by people who’ve never broken a rule or taken a risk.
But if you want to burn, to build, to conquer, to love savagely and live mythically?
You need a new set of blueprints. New codes and I have the cheat codessssss. You need to hear from someone who’s free.

That’s what the paid guides are. The battle plans and forbidden tactics, the confessions and codes, the wild stories and sharp secrets I only share with the wolves in the inner circle.
That’s where I give you everything uncensored, unfiltered, legendary.
You want the playbook for weaponized magnetism, the rules for outlaw freedom, the kind of power and presence you know you could have if someone just showed you how.

This is your invitation. Not just to read, but to live differently.
Join the wolves. Steal the secrets. Burn the bridges behind you.
Subscribe now and read the guides.
The future is owned by the ones who say yes to themselves today, not tomorrow.

God Bless the Wolves.

God Help the rest.

PS…. Subscribe now, or spend the rest of your life asking permission to pee and taking orders from men who can’t deadlift their own suitcase. Don’t be a cabin bitch boy be the bastard who steals the ship.

-Day