Masculinity

My struggles, and a path forward

Trigger warning: strong mental health themes. I understand if you choose not to read. 💌

My worldview of what it means to be a man has changed multiple times throughout my life. My most recent change has been more of a warping as opposed to a natural, healthy evolution, for reasons I’ll carefully and compassionately explain later in this article. First, let’s start with what my first introduction to what masculinity was.

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Ages 8-18

My mum raised me a Jehovah’s Witness. I stopped at the age of 15 when I developed my first semblance of autonomy. I wrote about this here (include link), so won’t labour the point.

My first introduction to masculinity:

• It’s wrong to be anything other than straight

• It’s wrong to have confusing feelings about sexuality

• The man is the head of the house

These are all teachings of the Jehovah’s Witness religion.

Now, being 9 years old, my awareness was restricted to that of completing Halo 1 Legendary mode on Xbox. I didn’t know, nor care about masculinity. I couldn’t even make a crumpet.

Despite my unbeknown youthful ignorance, the teachings outlined above still morphed a small, but VERY impactful, part of the malleable grey matter in my brain.

It was wrong to be bi/gay. It was wrong to have confusing feelings and thoughts.

It was right to suppress those.

Unsurprisingly, and like millions of other teens, I did have confusion about my sexuality. Despite raising my conflicting feelings, I was met by a wall of rejection and cognitive dissonance from those that should’ve known better.

Confused manifested into apathy. In turn, my hidden internal perception of masculinity, and what it meant to me, warped into potentially self damaging thoughts. In other words..

• I must suppress my feelings

• I must be untrue to myself

• I must shut up and get in line.

Ages 18-29

Now, I need you to remember the reasons behind the warped view of masculinity:

• Rejection and/or intentional ignorance of coming-of-age feelings

• Pressure to conform to the standards and rules (straight, male-led masculinity)

What were the outcomes of this?

• I must ‘accept’

But what does this really mean? The nature of this acceptance is a belief that I am constantly on the wrong side, and that I must forever & always seek to rebalance my morale standing with a malevolent greater force in order to reconcile my internal sins - that manifested with confused feelings at 14 years old.

Of course, at age 16 I made my own way and stopped being a JW.

But this does not mean that my enforced servitude minded stopped. It just cleverly changed targets. Instead of an all powerful deity that watches your every move, it was social validation. It was safe to say I was an attention seeker from 18 years old. I yearned for social media validation via likes and comments - then in real life by opting to be the pinata of the party; downing drinks, getting paralytic, generally making a fool of myself.

Everyone has probably done this - whether consciously or unconsciously. But if my religion was anti religion and my god was attention, I was striving to serve Him no end.

Then I met my real dad for the first time.

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I hadn’t met my biological dad once (since I was about 2 yrs old, but no matter how much veg I eat, my memory just doesn’t go back that far).

He got in contact with my mum, asking to meet me. So I did.

As I walked up to a skinhead man with a clearly aged & unset broken nose that was indicative of a life of annoying others to the extent of receiving a well-timed jab, I felt nothing. Just apathy.

It was awkward to say the least. They say that blood is thicker than water, but I don’t agree. The only bond I felt that day was to get back to my house and play Xbox.

We went to a local pub and he ordered us 2 OJs. We spoke, but I can’t remember what about. All I remember from that day is he got me a card for my recent 17th birthday with £100 in it.

It felt empty. 17 years of absence being reconciled with a 17th birthday card and some notes would be an absolute killer skit in a sitcom, wouldn’t it?

After we parted ways, I threw it away into a bush. I decided right then and there I didn’t want to be associated with this man with which my only connection came through shared genes.

I regret throwing away that card. On the one hand, I was apathetic - but also angry (work that one out psychologists) - that this was the best gesture he could come up with; on the other, I do believe in second chances and reconciliation. To a point.

I empathise with my biological father. I myself had and still have deep, internal hatred of myself and regrets (albeit, not as much these days, I’m working on it).

I understand - and if I were advising someone else - maybe I’d even suggest trying to reconcile. But it’s such a dangerous, unearthed emotional landmine for me that I can’t even think about meeting again, let alone make the effort to introduce him to my life.

I will one day. He FB messages me on June the 4th every year with a long message detailing how he’s off the booze & drugs, and wants to prove he can change. I never reply - I just archive it. This may sound cold, but I need more time.

I was just about to say my yearly non-reply isn’t out of spite. But that is a lie. It is partially out of spite. The toxic, masculinity driven part of my lizard brain thinks ‘you made me wait 17 yrs, you didn’t change then - now you can wait.’

I am aware this isn’t healthy. But I will change this in the next few years - for now I need to prepare myself on when & how I want to engage him, at the right time where my mental health is not ripe for serious negative repercussions. Soon.

I haven’t thought about that day many times since. But thinking about this now does give provide insight into how my view on my own masculinity changed after meeting my dad:

• Kindness and reconciliation is not possible - I do not deserve it, and you cannot give it to me

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Age 29 - The Present

Trigger warning: assault / consent. Please skip if you do not wish to read. 💌

I have been struggling with something stealthily damaging, psyche breaking and a complete self-belief-mind-fuck for the best part of a year.

When I was single last early summer, nearly 12 months ago in fact, I was dating around. I met someone after going to a football match.

We went to a local pub. We had drinks. We went back to hers.

One thing led to another. It was fine, at first. But I got to a point where I felt uncomfortable / in pain whilst on my back and they were on top. I won’t go into details, and I was drunk, but I remember saying ‘stop’, or something to that effect.

And I don’t think they stopped.

It wasn’t as if I was weak, or not strong enough to move them off me. I was a 29 year old male that goes gym, can lift quite a lot, and had done some Muay Thai.

But in that moment I just… didn’t do anything.

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This has been at the back of my mind for quite some time now. I didn’t even realise it until recently.

I felt weird the morning after it, but didn’t dive too deep as I had just started a new job. The life events were convenient in storing this event into a box with a big fat question mark on it.

In the last few months, my behaviour and internal thought processes have become more & more erratic and destructive. I have questioned my sense of self, identify, and masculinity. I feel emasculated and embarrassed.

I have rejected love & kindness from friends, family and my girlfriend. I have outright chosen to cultivate a dislike of myself and my life purpose, instead of accepting nurturing love.

It is only now that I link the above events to be partial contributors to my fluctuating self-beliefs. One minute I’m a demigod with the world at his feet, the next I am invisible.

The most confusing part about this all is self doubt. Being a ‘man’ and subsciously viewing masculinity through the prism of self blame and ‘being my fault’ means that even now, I don’t know if what happened was real assault. After all, how can I trust myself? Shouldn’t I just accept bad things - all because of those strange sexual feelings and rejections at 14 years old? And even if it was what I think it was, it’s not ‘as bad’ as the traditional media landscape view of assault, and / or my internal worldview.

I am aware that this is a flawed and untrue thought process. And I am aware deep down, that I know the answers to the above. The dreaded truth to my question. But the guilt, shame, and embarrassment of admitting I was a ‘victim’ is so great, I find it hard to address head on.

Me and my friends are so, so close. But this type of discussion just hasn’t come up before. A male experiencing a potential assault?

Obviously I know this can and does happen, but the fear of bringing this up and the potential subsequent response is too great to do directly.

Some of my friends are subscribers to this newsletter, so they’ll see this. I guess it is an indirect way of talking to them about a deeply troubling experience I’ve had. And it is also a self-therapeutic exercise in some ways too.

I’ve been wrestling with this. But it is only in recent weeks i’ve finally decided to address it more directly through a mixture of writing, therapy and self-acceptance.

I’m by no means ‘fully’ reconciled, but the first steps are underway. It is quite comforting to know that.

It is also quite scary posting about it.

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What now? Great question.

I’m doing therapy regularly again, and trying to get to a place where I can reignite my self-love and ability to accept kindness without fear of condition.

And as I sit here, typing - I look around me. I am at my girlfriends in a South London flat. The sun is shining, and the windows are open. There is a ginger cat called Carlos curled up on the side. He is a beautiful menace.

Whilst navigating the stormy currents of reconciliation and masculinity reconfiguration, I take a deep breath and remember what is good in life - my prospering revived relationship with my mum; my strong group of friends; my loving girlfriend.

And LOOK at what she just made me. Mango with Tahin seasoning.

The little things.

No more choosing the addiction of self-loathing. A lot more acceptance of the good things.

Thank you so much for reading, and please remember these are just my personal experiences.

Have a fantastic Sunday.