I am regularly called a militant man-hating lesbian. A classification I find rather flattering because like, duh, everyone knows bossy lesbians are HOT.

But I'm not keen on the man-hating part. Because it's simply not true.

Fair enough, I have been known to criticise men who rape and beat women and children. I know, the gall – but even so, I actually love most men.

I love that they're stronger than I am… well most of them are. And that at least some of them are taller than I am. I like the way they tie their shoes and take off their shirts and know obscure rock trivia.

But most of all, I love how they are actually a lot more adaptable than we give them credit for. When women realised they could have a job, a life and a family without a man, the cool men went and upped their game. So we don't need them to protect or provide for us anymore? No problem, they just learnt new skills.

A host of them. The new man can touch type because he knows he'll probably never have a secretary sitting in his lap, doing it for him. He can cook and he likes it. He knows to separate whites from colours when he does the washing. He has (sometimes quite bizarre) nappy changing techniques. He often takes responsibility for birth control because he actually cares about fathering children, and, taking responsibility for them.

You can even let the New Man loose in a shopping mall and not only will he have fun, but he'll also come home with bags full of cool clothes and funky trainers.

Metroman uses product on his skin and hair. And he's not shy to tell the mechanic he has no idea whether the ignition or the battery is wrecked.

And oh, he totally has the art of cunnilingus down pat.

But, as with everything in life, Metroman can go too far. If he spends more time on his hair than I do, it's unattractive. And I'm sure as hell not comfortable with the idea of male make-up. I don't love the ultra feminine fashions and I'm still coming to terms with the man-bag.

But then, the man-bag is a column on its own.

But – and I am calling out to my fellow man-hating, strident, faux-lesbian sisters here – how supercool is it that men can do "chick" stuff at last? So for the men out there, the ones who are truly kind, and brave and adventurous: thanks. Thanks for trying your hands at pavlova-making. Thanks for asking and taking advice on how you should cut your hair. Thanks for doing the dishes and having the strength to show your softness. Congratulations boys. We love you.

As for the rest? We'll be waiting for you to catch up. But we won't wait forever.

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