When I tell people I have a pet, they always assume it’s a dog.

Why? Because “man’s best friend” is code for: “This dude checks the masculinity box.” A hound is socially acceptable. But when I say I have a cat, the room shifts. I see the head tilt. The smirk. The “oh.”

Apparently, being a cat dad is still a radical act.

But I’m not hiding behind bravado. I’m not going to puff my chest and pretend I only watch UFC while grilling raw meat. Because here’s the truth: my cat, Nubia, has done more for my mental health than any protein shake or motivational podcast ever could.

How I Became a Cat Dad

I didn’t adopt Nubia to smash gender stereotypes or tap into my “divine feminine.” I got her because I was lonely.

I’ve always loved dogs. Still do. But dogs are needy. I work long hours and needed a pet that could both love me and leave me alone. A cat sounded perfect: independent, low maintenance, yet still capable of curling up beside me when the silence at home got too loud.

I decided to adopt. I wasn’t picky about breed, age, or gender. I just knew one thing, that I wanted a black cat. Why? Because black cats are the most overlooked animals in shelters. Blame it on superstition, photography, or old wives’ tales, but they’re often the last to be adopted and the first to be euthanized. That didn’t sit right with me.

The Moment I Met Her

At the shelter, I saw her.

Two golden eyes peered out from a shadowy corner. A round black face, pointy ears, and this elegant, eerie calm. She stretched her paw through the bars and waved me over, slow, deliberate, like a spell. I walked to her. She tilted her head as if to say, “Took you long enough.”

They let me meet her in the bonding room. She played, purred, even came to me when I called. Her name at the shelter? Snow White. I stared at that name tag like it owed me money.

I renamed her Nubia. Look it up. She’s Black, she’s beautiful, and she’s royalty.

Masculinity Doesn’t Live in a Dog Bowl

Nubia and I have been together over seven years now. She’s been by my side through moves, job shifts, a recession, and the beautiful chaos of becoming a father and a fiancé. Nubia didn’t just become my pet; she became my companion. My emotional support animal. My quiet, furry therapist.

Still, when people hear I have a cat, the judgment hangs in the air:
“Cats are for women.”
“Men who own cats are soft.”
“Cats are too feminine.”

Bullsh*t.

Let’s be real cats have been associated with femininity for centuries. They’ve been linked to goddesses, witches and spinsters. Here’s a quick look at why:

In Short: Why Cats Are Associated with Femininity

• Mythology & Symbolism: Cats have long been tied to goddesses, the moon, and feminine mystique.
• Behavioral Mirroring: Graceful, independent, emotionally complex, which are traits historically (and unfairly) labeled “feminine.”
• Witchcraft & Independence: In history, cats were familiars to “dangerous” women aka, women who thought for themselves.
• Emotional Depth Over Loyalty: Cats don’t fawn for approval. Their affection is earned. And that nuance? We called it “feminine energy.”
• Pop Culture Reinforcement: Media sold us the idea that women get cats, and men get dogs. That’s lazy marketing. Not biology.

The Stigma Is Real. But I’m Over It.

A 2020 study even asked women what they thought of men with cats in their dating profiles. Many rated those men as less masculine, more neurotic, and even less desirable. All because of a cat.

That’s not just unfair. That’s ridiculous.

When I look at Nubia, I don’t see an attack on traditional masculinity I see loyalty, wisdom, warmth, and yes, some healthy boundary-setting. She’s everything society told me men couldn’t be: emotionally aware, subtle, nurturing.

For the Men Still on the Fence

If you’re thinking about getting a pet but feel like you should get a dog, ask yourself:
Who told you cats weren’t for men?
Whose voice is that in your head?
Is it you, or just the noise of a culture that hasn’t grown up yet?

If you’re not a cat person, fine. But don’t let shame stop you from discovering whether you are. Because the minute you bring a cat home, that shame melts. You get it. And you’ll never look back.

To My Fellow Cat Dads

Welcome to the club. We don’t need to prove anything. We’ve got fur on our clothes and love in our homes. We’re part of a growing brotherhood of men who are rewriting what it means to be strong:
Strong enough to feel.
Strong enough to nurture.
Strong enough to adopt a damn cat.