Facebook suggested a very attractive young woman to me.  A woman with whom I shared one mutual friend, him.  He was very particular in the way he handled his social media.  He only had 30-something friends because he didn’t want the drama that came with having random acquaintances and family members.  He wanted his social media to be only about his “specific interests,” so this caught my attention.

I got that feeling in my gut…you know, the one that pokes you to alertness.  How could this attractive younger woman be involved in his specific interests?

I didn’t sit around thinking about it for hours.  I just texted him right then and there and asked who she was.  He responded immediately by sending me screen shots of their messages and other less flattering pictures of her.

Then he called and explained that she was someone from school.  They were making plans to meet up before their internship shift started so they could check in together.

His response was so open, and he was so concerned with me fully understanding what was happening.  While I do recall feeling super cared for in that moment, it didn’t fully sit well with me.  If it was so innocent (and this one did seem to be), why wouldn’t he tell me about this beforehand like he promised he would?  Why would he wait until she came across my path ‘accidentally?’

We talked about it openly for a time following and brought it to therapy together.  Ultimately, it was up to me to accept it and let it go.  And due to his transparency regarding it, I did.

HOWEVER, I learned already that typically where there’s smoke, there’s fire…this incident would be the spark.  The lick of the flames to follow would further forge the veil making it progressively harder to see through (again).

~

After I started publishing my story, a male friend who is near and dear to me, reached out.  He said that what I was sharing, combined with the music, was connecting him with his feelings.  He continued, “So many days at work I’ll just play music and fucking cry and I’ll never tell anyone else that because it’s not tough.  But it’s the truth to my feelings.  Music takes me there.”

One of my brothers also started reading this and would reach out each week with the goal of making me cry with his sentiments (it worked almost every time).  But, once in a while, something would reach him emotionally and he would tell me.  It is also the brother who I would have speculated as least likely to articulate himself in these ways.    

I share these examples because the gift of such expressions is not lost on me anymore.  I cherish that these men trusted me with their innermost reflections and the deepening of each relationship that came as a result. Especially knowing that it was not typical of either of them. Men are not exactly encouraged to allow their emotional side.  It made me realize and start to think about the way the world defines what a man should be…protecter, provider, stoic, etc.

To be the protecter you have to be observant, physically capable, and mentally discerning.  To be the provider, you have to be a machine, chasing money…work, work, work, work, work, work (Rihanna understands).  To be stoic is to be capable, level-headed, unemotional…a man is a “tough guy.”  

We do need men to be these things though, don’t we? Masculinity serves a purpose. But to be all these things and then just have to “suck it up and be a man about it.” Don’t cry. Don’t show any weakness. Don’t ever talk about how you feel. Make everything look good on the outside.

Aren’t we really sending the message that who you are doesn’t matter? What you do for “us” is all that matters (and it will probably never be enough). How could anyone thrive under such enormous pressures? How can they process life and grow and work through things if they don’t know how?

Ironically, the old paradigms of our society don’t seem to serve to make men more, but less. 

My love and I once came across the idea of the distorted versus the divine attributes of the masculine and the feminine.  Both are equal in power, but opposite in their strengths, characterized more by energy than anatomy.  Naturally there will be some overlap as we carry both energies within us to varying degrees depending on the individual. The light and dark in us if you will (the yin and the yang).  In a general way, you could deduce the following:

The distorted version of a man is one who leans towards aggression, control, perversion, domination.  To the extreme, he is capable of causing the highest degrees of harm usually in some harsh way.  The distorted version of a woman is one of seeking validation, entitlement, judgment, non-specific seduction (I’ve been all of these).  To the extreme, she is a disempowered, hyper-emotional victim causing harm in equal degrees to that of the distorted masculine only in a more cunning way. 

The divine masculine traits include clarity, action, leadership, logic.  This man to the extreme could move mountains (!) and inspire the masses with truth as his power.  The divine feminine traits include intuition, compassion, creativity, receptiveness.  She is a woman that people are drawn to naturally and can influence others without saying a word.        

The divine traits point to the path of our highest potential.  The distorted ones will lead to our demise.  The two extremes go to show the great influence each person has in this world (for bad or for good).

In my experience, the more I faced my wounds and brought them to light (consciousness), the more the divine qualities flowed through me. Likewise, the more unaware I’ve been, the more distortion of my character (unconsciousness). It seems to be an automatic process.

Something I’ve touched on briefly already, the aspects that make up a human…physical, emotional, mental, spiritual.  I know from my own experience that for me to ignore any one of these facets of my being, creates an all-encompassing imbalance.  How much of an imbalance depends (I think) on the depths of my disregard for them, for myself essentially.  This could present itself in a million different ways.  One smaller example would be if I let my mind race and race negatively, it would affect my emotions.  That will eventually have my heart beating faster and faster and my stomach in knots.  There is no clear spiritual channel then.  I’m blocked. I’m distorted. I’ll probably act out in some harmful way next.  Make this a way of living and watch disease (dis–ease) manifest…demise.

A person that is perpetually exhausted, continuously worried about the weight that the ‘world’ has thrust upon their shoulders, while suppressing emotions at the same time and having little to no connection to anything ultimately meaningful…less than what they could be.

~

Here, I must tell you (with a weary acceptance) that my love started to be seduced by the old paradigms yet again when he got away from meetings, and therefore away from himself.  The bigger influences in his life then became those of the old archetypes…a man’s worth is classified by his standing in his career, the “things” that he owned, and the size of his back account.  As well as all the things that come with that for “him” specifically…collecting women, using distractions, toxically detaching, running…distorted masculine.

When I set out to share my words, I vowed to share THE truth of my own personal experiences to the best of my ability. With this comes a real responsibility to check myself, so that I don’t cause more damage. As some great philosopher once said, “Check thyself before ye wreck thyself.”  Also, to share from my heart so that I may reach another’s.  I have an intimate, learned understanding that that is the only chance to inspire real change.  And we need it. Don’t we?  We are not ok.

Trust me, I get no joy from telling the stories that follow.  I have experienced no pain quite like that of watching people dig their own graves…not being able to do much but observe in horror.

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