Two women seeking equality in a state where some couples are more equal than others.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

A Lesbian Talks Toxic vs. Real Masculinity: Not About Brock Turner or Omar Mateen

Dear Men,

I want to start with the disclaimer that this post is about toxic masculinity, not real masculinity. I have lots of male friends - gay men, straight men, older men, younger men - see how I did that? Just the way I've heard people justify criticizing the LGBT community after invoking their friend status with a gay person or two.

Many of my male friends identify as feminists - they believe that women can and should do anything, and they support behaviors and policies that make that possible. They are nurturing and honest and strong - they exemplify real masculinity. This post is not for them.

 This post is also not for you, Brock Turner,  only because I have never met you. This post is not for you, Omar Mateen, also because I have never met you.

This post is for the following men, whom I've actually met:

This post is for you, wealthy White businessman seated next to me on a plane who, when you found out Rebecca and I were a married couple, propositioned me (or us? not exactly sure) to come stay with you and your wife, explaining that . . .  well, explaining things that I don't want to know about someone's marriage and bedroom situation when I just met you.

This post is for you, homeless man I gave a ride to the shelter (I'm not looking for accolades - it's just a thing I did because it was the right thing to do under the circumstances) who texted me later to tell me that you wanted to kiss me to show your appreciation, but didn't because I had said I had a girlfriend. (Note: I didn't say girlfriend, because I don't have one of those. I said wife. Multiple times.) When I told you that appreciation wasn't necessary, and corrected you that Rebecca is my wife, you asked me if she is "thick too." (For those of you unfamiliar with the term thick, here is a link to its Urban Dictionary page. While I realize that it was intended as a compliment, I'm not sure the term actually applies to me, or how you knew one way or the other, since I was wearing a long-sleeved cardigan over a full-length, structured maxi dress that day.) And then when I told you that this line of conversation was making me uncomfortable, you said you were just joking. (No, you weren't.)

This post is for you, ex-boyfriend who told me when I came out to you that I'm not a lesbian, I'm bisexual, because "no estabas fingiendo conmigo." (Roughly translated: "You weren't pretending with me.")

It's for you, different homeless man, who angrily insisted that I don't look gay after I mentioned my wife.

It's for you, male high school student who commented something vile in Arabic about a young female colleague within earshot of her while at the school.  She spoke Arabic, overheard your comment, and was justifiably unsettled and when I found out later, I insisted the student be in my class not hers because I have developed a thick skin. But I'm still rattled by it, months later.

It's for you, young man who tried to pick me up in the Bloomfield library cafe, and was shocked that I'm married, shocked that I'm 28 years old, shocked that I'm gay. You were no longer interested in seeing me again (to be fair, I was a little disingenuous in giving you my card, because the point was to teach you something). I believe your exact words were, "I shouldn't even be talking to you." Because in your head I belonged to my wife and couldn't belong to you. Probably not because I'm a lesbian and wouldn't be interested.

It's for you, student at one of the urban high schools I teach SAT prep at who grabbed my hair as I walked past in the hallway, held it to your nose, and announced that it smelled good, as though it's a compliment. As though it was your business.

I don't belong to you.

I am not for you.

I didn't put on this dress today for you.  I didn't wash my hair today for you. I didn't give you a ride because I'm interested.

I'm a lesbian.

That doesn't mean my marriage or sexual orientation is open for your validation or interpretation. Neither is my body. Even if you see us kissing. Even if I once upon a time kissed you. Even if you want to kiss me.

These behaviors and beliefs are not real masculinity.

And the belief that I do belong to you, or could someday, or that my marriage or body are open for your evaluation - it's a sickness.

It comes from a toxic version of masculinity that claims that real men own things. That men's opinions and values are more important than women's. That women only have value when they belong to a man. That men are inherently violent and lacking in self-control.

Except they're not. You're not.

I challenge you to meet men who are so confident in themselves that they can have a tea party with their daughters, fold their wife's laundry, take a step back at work and let women speak, refrain from propositioning or catcalling women on the street, understand that no means no. They exist. They are strong. Learn from them. And then be one of them.

Know better. Do better.

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