Why Every Grown Man Needs a Batman Costume
It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me.
Call me weird, but I believe every grown man should own a Batman suit. If not a Batman suit, a really good costume. It’s a must have.
When I say a Batman suit, I’m not talking just a t-shirt or a novelty mug—but the full cowl, cape, boots, belt, and suit. I didn’t always have one hanging in my closet. It started years ago when I was teaching, and we had a superhero t-shirt day during Homecoming week. I grabbed a Batman shirt because I’d always been drawn to him. Unlike most superheroes, he didn’t have powers—just a lot of brains and a little bit of money (okay, a lot of money).
The kids immediately started drawing comparisons between me and the Caped Crusader. Mostly because I don’t walk around smiling like a motivational poster. Before long, Batman mania took over my classroom. Students brought me Lego Batman figures, action figures, posters…you name it, I got it. I even had a bookshelf dedicated strictly to Batman memorabilia.
A couple years later, I was wandering through Spirit Halloween the day after Halloween, and I found a Dark Knight costume on clearance. It was good, but if I’m honest, I looked more like Doberman Man than Batman. The mask was wrong, the cape was too short, and the chest piece turned into a personal sauna within five minutes.
Just like Batman, year one, I went back to the drawing board and did some work. I found a Batman Airsoft mask and painted the entire thing black. I then did what every respectable Batman does: I called Alfred—my Mama. I reached out to a fellow Batman enthusiast on Facebook and got the plan for his cape. It was made out of two black twin bed sheets. Mama did an amazing job and that cape was only a few inches off the ground, and wrapped around my shoulders. It still wasn’t quite right.
After suffering through the sauna that was my suit, I called out to my Alfred again. My Mama always asked me what I wanted for my birthday, which happens to be in November. I called her in the first of October and told her that for my birthday that year, I didn’t care about anything else. I wanted a proper Batman suit.
Piece by piece, I have upgraded everything. A better cowl (I can’t hear a thing in it, but I look amazing), and even superhero boots because I refuse to be the guy wearing slip-on covers over tennis shoes. The belt actually has some substance to it. I also have the collar to cover up my neck.
The first time I put the full suit on, my youngest, Grayson, just stared at me with his mouth open. He whispered, “You’re Batman.” And I’ll be honest—I felt like it. My daughters smiled and said, “That’s great!” Brighton declared, “I am definitely being Robin again.” And my wife smiled and shook her head because she knows exactly who she married.
I have never been embarrassed. Not once. In fact, I walk a little taller in that suit. It’s a strange feeling, but there’s something about wearing it that makes you stand straighter, like you really could fight crime if you needed to.
One night, I was at our church for a movie event, standing there with my kids when I felt a tiny tug on my cape. I turned, expecting one of mine, but it was a little boy about four years old. He motioned for me to bend down. When I did, he gave me a hug and asked if we could take a picture. Of course, I said yes.
That’s the thing about Batman. He’s more than a comic book character. He’s a reminder that you don’t need superpowers to show up for people. You don’t need a magic hammer or an alien heritage. You just need to be willing to stand between the people you love and whatever might hurt them.
Sometimes when I see the suit hanging in the closet, it feels like a little nudge. A reminder that I have two roles: Bruce Wayne the provider, and Batman the protector.
Every one of my kids has dressed up as Robin—even the girls. They’ve all walked beside me on Halloween or at Trunk or Treats. Older kids have stopped us for pictures. People point and smile. My kids think it’s cool that their dad is Batman. But the coolest part for me? When my daughters say, “Thank you for protecting us.” Or when my son whispers, “You make me feel safe.”
If you’re wondering whether you’re too old or too dignified for this sort of thing, let me offer you some advice:
Do it.
Hold onto your youthfulness as long as you can. Find something that makes you feel like the best version of yourself, even if other people roll their eyes.
My wife lets me be a kid sometimes, and my kids appreciate that. I think it even makes my Mama feel like her little boy never completely grew up.
The world is hard enough. Sometimes you need a cape and cowl.
Now, if you’ll excuse me…to the Batcave.
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