Men and me
I like men.
I really do like men. A lot. The most important people in my life have almost always been men (barring a few, very few exceptions).The people who have shaped my thinking and my emotions, who have cut me and built me up…every single one of them has been male.
They were family…a father, a grandfather, uncles, cousins.
They were friends. They were boyfriends.
They were teachers and mentors and guides.
They were friendly strangers who helped me find direction and expected something in return.
They were scheming adversaries to be defeated and pitied.
They were temptations and weaknesses to be overcome.
They were indulgent advisors who patted me on the head and watched fondly as I learnt to fly.
They were all men.
It amazes me that few people have realized that. All the time that I spend thinking and analyzing and calculating how to surprise people…it is almost always targeted at men…is that not obvious?
I’m amused when I’m accused of being a feminist. Call me an egoist…that I am, perhaps. I’m conceited enough to think I’ll do a better job of being a man than most men I know. I am jaded enough to know that men have had a better deal in this world than women have. Now, I’m realistic enough to admit that I’m in a uniquely advantaged position…that of being an educated, self-aware, liberated woman in a world where women can be almost anything they want to be. And now I actually feel sorry for my favorite part of the human race…the men.
I used to think that I was a tomboy and that I fit in well into that role because I didn’t like being a girl. I realize now, that the reason I hung out with guys is because I liked them so much, even to the extent of wanting to ape them. The strongest influences in my life have, after all, been all male. I had my gender identity mixed up for awhile and having crushes on men added to the agony. Growing up has its advantages and perspective is one of them. I realize I’m privileged to be a woman at this time, in this class of society.
I fully enjoy everything that goes into being a woman. Even the forced dependence on men, at times, doesn’t bother me as much when I realize that its part of the gender equation. It has taken a long time for me to be able to admit it but I like men and everything that makes them. The ego, the vulnerability, the one-track-mindedness, the childish tantrums, the protectiveness, the baser instincts, the roughness of expression and language, the tenderness of denied emotions….every single thing that spells MAN.
The best thing about being a woman is having a lifetime of experiencing men.