That attitude, however, felt increasingly out of reach. In a world dominated by comparisons of achievements or scope of success, the joy of play was gradually eroded. There was no longer room for my curiosity or wonder—only competition, toughness, and control. The same aviation world I admired began to reflect those toxic values. Pilots, mechanics, and engineers were celebrated, not for their ingenuity or passion, but for their ability to assert strength and dominance. It was as though we had collectively forgotten that play was at the very root of human achievement. Each model plane was a piece of art, a testament to the joy of discovery. But as I entered the world of real aviation, a strange shadow loomed—a fixation on numbers, miles flown, hours clocked. The very people who once dreamed of adventure like I did were now racing to prove who could fly the farthest, soar the highest, as if the skies themselves were a competition.

Planes, once symbols of freedom and imagination, became reminders of the suffocating culture surrounding me. The competitive atmosphere of aviation mirrored the toxic communities that seemed to dominate every aspect of life—whether in work, friendships, or social dynamics. I saw it in the unspoken rules about how men were expected to act—stoic, tough, always in control. Playfulness became a sign of weakness, and curiosity was dismissed as frivolous. We had lost sight of the fact that play nurtures creativity, resilience, and problem-solving. The dream of being a pilots turned into a repetitive job, it was no longer me toying around above the clouds of my bedroom floor with my model plane, it lost what made it special

In a world where boys that turn into men are encouraged to mask vulnerability, the idea of play seemed like a distant memory. Yet, my love for aviation never wavered. It remained a space of wonder for me, a world where engines hummed like a symphony orchestra and wings sliced through the sky like poetry in motion. Planes became my escape, a way to distance myself from the toxicity around me. In the mechanics of flight, I found purity—a kind of play that was rooted in curiosity and passion, free from the weight of societal expectations. As Einstein famously said, “Combinatory play seems to be the essential feature in productive thought.” In flight, I could explore, create, and imagine in ways that everyday life didn’t allow.

The joy of building and flying planes reminded me of something deeper. Play, I realized, isn’t just for children—it’s a mindset that can shape how we engage with the world. In aviation, I found that alternate reality, a place where the toxic pressures of masculinity didn’t dictate my every move. Flying wasn’t about dominance; it was about mastering the unexpected. In the air, I was free. I self-proclaimed to not be a creative adult, I just wanted to be that child that did not stop playing.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that distancing myself from toxicity wasn’t enough. What if we could reshape society by embracing play, not just as an escape, but as a transformative force? What if, instead of perpetuating toxic masculinity, we embraced the freedom that comes with letting go of rigid expectations? Play, in its truest form, holds the potential to break down these toxic structures. If more people tapped into this sense of play, we could create a society where playfulness wasn’t shamed but celebrated.

As I delved deeper into the mechanics of planes—the lift, the thrust, the way engines work—I began to see parallels with human potential. Just as planes need a careful balance of forces to soar, we too need balance in our lives. By letting go of the toxic need for satisfaction of our egos, we open ourselves to a healthier, more joyful approach to life. Play isn’t just about imagination—it’s about mastering our talents and holding a smile in the process. It allows us to transcend the limitations imposed by society, to rise above the narrow definitions of masculinity that weigh us down.

The solution to the toxicity around me wasn’t to retreat into the clouds of my mind forever, but it was my job to bring the spirit of play back to the ground. By fostering our passions with sincerity and openness, we can break the masculine cycles that hold young men down. Play can be a vehicle for us to explore new ways of being, to create a world where we all thrive, free from rigid expectations. Through play, we can reshape our communities, our relationships, and ourselves.

In the end, play isn’t just a way to escape—it’s a way to transform the world around us. Whether through aviation, art, or any passion, we can reclaim the joy and curiosity that toxic masculinity tries to suppress. And as I look to the sky, I know that the engines of change are already within us, waiting for us to take flight. The child inside me was soaring again.