Non-Toxic Masculinity
My wife and I knew within a week of seeing each other that we would eventually get married. I had an adjustment to make though. In all my previous relationships, I'd been the biggest breadwinner in the family. This time that wouldn't be the case. I was a public-school employee, and she was a partner in the most prestigious accounting firm in the area, earning about triple my salary. As life struggles go, making that mental adjustment wasn't remarkably hard, but it did require me to reexamine myself, never a bad thing. I let go of the ego boost that earning a bigger wage gave me in the past and haven't really thought about it much since then. We've never had an argument over money, even if she, with her accountant's attention to detail, knows and often mentions the bank transactions I create when I stop on the way to work for a fast-food indulgence.
When I started to investigate a more progressive political outlook in my mid-30s, I encountered a different crowd then I'd known before in my life. I'd never had to be self-analytical about my attitudes on gender, race and sexuality before but now it was part of the culture among my new circle of friends. We white guys were still expected to work hard within our organizations, but we were also expected to take a back seat at times and not assume that leadership or primacy in meetings and activities was our birthright.
Life was full of little lessons. I remember being at a gathering where a woman from another city was being outspoken and disagreeable, fighting against the goals of the people I'd traveled to the meeting with. On a break I mentioned to one of the other men in my group that she was really being a bitch. He stopped me and asked me what word I would use to describe a man doing the same thing. I was taken aback and didn't have an answer. He told me that particular word was one that men used to characterize women who threaten us and that I should think about whether I wanted to use it. That was 25 years ago, and I've rarely uttered the word since and when I do, the burning shame of that moment comes back to me.
When I was younger, I was attracted to traditional masculine roles and activities. I played high school football. I enlisted in the infantry. My first civilian job after that was working in a men's prison. It's not that I now feel like any of those are bad things, necessarily, but I don't need all that testosterone fueled chest thumping and the intimidation and violence that go with them in order to feel like I'm a real man, whatever that means.
Some of the trappings of traditional masculinity have never appealed to me. I'm not a car guy. I've never had the desire to own a gun, so I've not been hunting since I was a teenager. I've never had a problem buying a box of tampons and I look down on any man who does. But I still have to be careful and practice self-examination. When mansplaining first began to be talked about, I panicked. "Do I do that?" I thought. As the father of a son and daughters, I'm not going to pretend that I didn't make some gender biased mistakes along the way. While I believe that my granddaughters are indeed beautiful, I try to complement them on their achievements rather than their looks and as much as I like hugs and kisses, I don't insist on them if they aren't in the mood.
Like my friend did when I exhibited poor language choices, I've tried through the years to talk to my male friends about toxically masculine behaviors and sexism, not that I'm an expert. I'm just a guy who has been open to not being a macho asshole. Even some of the most conservative men in my life have let go of a lot of that. One of my dearest relatives was once very gruff and standoffish, not inclined toward outward displays of affection or talking about feelings. Today he has zero problems hugging anyone and doesn't mind saying "I love you" when appropriate. I'm so glad for him and for me.
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