There are two kinds of dick energy in the world. One type kicks the door open, talks loudly and grabs attention wherever it can get it. It gets big and loud and can also feel performative. The other type of energy swaggers in, often unnoticed, and quietly draws your attention its way. It doesn’t need to prove it’s magnetic, it garners attention through a security and assuredness that feels inherent to its being. It’s vulnerable, and open, and when you’re around it, you feel seen, considered, maybe even a little special.
That second one, that’s Big Dick Energy (BDE). It’s different than that cocky, grandiose type of Little Dick Energy (LDE).
What makes BDE stand out is that it’s a measure of cool, collectedness that we so desperately need right now. It’s calmly confident, and attracts rather than repels. It’s Benny Blanco/Jeff Goldblum /Janelle Monáe energy, hanging around without having to draw attention away from other things.
On the flipside, there is toxic masculinity. Toxic masculinity lives in the upside-down world that is Little Dick Energy. It’s the antithesis of BDE. Where BDE is relaxed, vulnerable and compassionate, LDE is testy, overcompensating, and defensive. BDE stems from an internal sense of knowing oneself, and feeling grounded. LDE grasps for external validation from all over the place.

Photo: Greg Weiner for Playgirl
While one doesn’t have to have a dick to have any of these types of energy, one problem remains. These types of dick energy rely on the same underlying idea that Whether used judgmentally or admiringly, it’s a measuring stick that has been quietly gauging masculinity for generations. The language still reinforces the same old idea that “size matters.”
So, if BDE is meant to describe the best version of masculine confidence, why do we still frame it in terms of size at all? Perhaps the “D” in BDE does not mean what we think it means.
We could admire BDE without having to attach it to a crotch, a merkin, or any part of us that we call “below the waist.” Instead of looking at how it’s hanging, we can notice the ease in which we hang around it. We can admire that it’s more about a person who isn’t threatened by other people’s power, beauty, or success, and is, instead, good with who they are. Especially since what people notice about that energy isn’t anatomy, it’s security. BDE isn’t something we take a shine to; it’s something we shine with. Ultimately, it’s the relief of encountering masculinity that finally feels divine.
Jamye Waxman, PhD is a sex and couples therapist based out of Los Angeles, CA.


