The first thing that made me start thinking about this was right before Easter. I had been growing my hair, having been lazy for several months about getting it cut, and finally deciding I had probably one last chance to grow and donate it before it went grey on me, so I decided to go for it. I found that while I had enjoyed the luxurious mane in my 20s, it just wasn't as much fun at 38, 39 or...40. Dealing with day to day tasks I didn't have in my younger days, it was in my way, but I had made a promise, and there were still times it was fun. I had originally planned to cut it off right before Lent, as a sign of "shedding the excess," but in casually discussing it with my pastor, he had humorously remarked, "No, you have to keep it until Easter, then the new haircut will represent 'new life.'" Well, who was I to contradict my pastor? So, Holy Saturday morning, I got it done.
Two nights later, at work, a female co-worker had commented that it took years off my face, and continued, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look...hotter." Now, in my 40 years on this earth, I had never heard "hot" or any variation used to describe me, with the exception of perhaps after a rant about how sick I was of being "cute," which I associated with being permanent friend-zoned, or even "handsome," which to me always brought images of either a little boy dressed up for some special occasion or an older man who was still good-looking, leaving me either too old or too young to want that label. I had for a long time bought the lies of needing to be sexy, hot or desirable, and when I ranted about the curse of cuteness, I always considered the occasional follow up, "But you are [insert adjective closer to my preference here]," to be little more than a consolation prize. No longer actively fishing for the descriptive words I had simply given up on ever hearing, I was shocked, and I'll admit, although this until recently unknown "hotness" of mine is reserved entirely for my wife, I was on a high all week from having heard the word without practically begging for it. My entire appearance could've been completely disfigured the next day, and I would've shrugged and thought, "Oh well, at least I was hot for one day." I suppose there's nothing wrong with appreciating a compliment, but perhaps I allowed my brain to be wired over the years to place a little bit too much value on that, and it never quite went away. By obsessing over that, I (and probably many other men) objectified myself as much as we of the male gender are guilty of doing so many times to women. We then tell women through the media that they need to do the same. Perhaps both men and women need to turn off the tv, burn the magazines, stop taking the quizzes and begin to look beyond the surface, both in their dealings with others and when they look at themselves.
Another thing that has been at the back of my mind in general is the way our culture tends to look at men now. There is the emphasis on how much real women can do, and this idea that men are just stupid, bumbling fools who'd forget to breathe if women weren't around to remind them. How men are presented in terms of intelligence these days is how the old fairy tales often presented women in terms of strength - helpless and needing rescuing by the other gender. Enter the meme. Someone had shared one on Facebook this morning about how a real woman can...some laundry list of things I can't even remember...share if you think you might be a man. There are a lot of those quotes about "real women," usually written by the same people who don't believe that "real men" exist. In some ways, sure it mocks the unrealistic expectations of women, but in other ways it seemed to put down men as being incapable of doing anything right. Most quotes meant to praise women tend to end with a sometimes veiled and sometimes blatant swipe at men. A few times, it's a joke; as a constant theme, it gets old. Not wanting to comment directly on the meme and be the object of a women's lynch mob, I decided the best place to vent would be my own status, which said, "The best way to ruin a quote praising one gender is for the same quote to insult the other gender." Women, the constant berating of men doesn't exalt you; it makes you look like a bunch of nags. It doesn't make us want to do better; it makes those who are trying want to give up, and those who aren't want to try even less.
Elsewhere, I received a little bit of encouragement via another page I follow on Facebook, The Chastity Project. They had shared a video of female students at Franciscan University of Steubenville thanking the male students for being real men. I was stunned. In a world where the little day to day things that men do really aren't appreciated at all, it was nice to see a group of young women, real women, taking notice when men are real men. The video wasn't even directed at me personally, and yet in my own day to day struggles to do my best, I felt recognized and appreciated as a man. I was also reminded of the times in my life when I didn't see the good in me, especially the times since early 2006, when my beloved Judy could, and did all she could to remind me.
I guess in a nutshell, what real men and women try to do is build each other up, not with false praise, but with a true recognition of each other's innate, God-given worth. We look to see the differences between the sexes not as a reason to belittle each other, but to see the other as complementary to our own nature, so as to understand more completely the creative genius of God in designing us how we are. Women, you rock! Men, so do you! God bless all of you for simply being you. Now excuse me. This real man has some housework to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment