It’s Our Pens (Wits) That Make Us Men

What defines a man in today’s world? Power? Strength? Dominance? Money?

I believe it’s our pens that make us men.

I borrow that line from Braveheart. At the beginning of the film, young William Wallace says, “I can fight.”

His father replies:

“I know. I know you can fight. But it’s our wits that make us men.”

That one line stayed with me. It became a foundation.

Years later, as grown William fights his battles, it’s clear—what gave him the edge wasn’t brute force. It was intelligence. Clarity. Strategy. The sword may have cut, but it was the mind behind it that truly mattered.

Life is still a kind of battlefield. We don’t carry swords, but we do carry tools. My tool is the pen.

In a world moving too fast, too loud, too digital, I’ve grown more attached to the physical act of writing. A pen slows me down. It adds intention. It reminds me to mean what I say.

We send hundreds of messages daily—text, voice notes, emails. But do they hold meaning? How often do we pause to consider what our words feel like? We speak in abbreviations. Our messages often come with fillers: “uh,” “ah,” “you know.” But when I sit down to write by hand, every word earns its place.

That’s why I started collecting pens.

Specifically, fountain pens. The craftsmanship behind them speaks to me. The nib feels like a sword—precise, elegant, alive. Writing with one turns a note into a gesture. A sentence into a move. The time I give to the message becomes visible in the writing itself.

One of my first fountain pens came from my wife. A gift.

It was a Montegrappa.

She asked me what I wanted for Valentine’s Day. I said, “Just a fountain pen.” I told her it didn’t need to be expensive. She ignored that and went deeper.

She found Montegrappa—a family-run house known for its legacy and craft. The pen she chose was beautiful. Italian. Weighty in the hand. Warm in character.

From that day on, it became my companion. My writing changed. It slowed. Became more focused. More intentional. Each letter now passes through thought, not habit.

And with that pen, I began to see writing differently—not just as communication, but as presence.

Every single word I write with that pen brings the love value as a protector of my family.