Masculinity is a trap. At least that’s what my partner is always saying. I think she’s right in a lot of ways. I know I feel trapped by masculinity a lot of the time. Part of that trap is just figuring out what masculinity is. I do know, in one sense, I’m an adult male, so whatever I do is masculine. That’s not the sense I’m talking about here, though. And, I hope, I’m not talking about stereotypical masculinity. I’m not really interested in Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. I’m talking about real life masculinity and where I fit into it.
When people talk about masculinity, it’s almost always paired with the word “toxic”. I certainly don’t want to be toxic. Although, like regular masculinity, it’s not really clear what toxic masculinity is. At least not to me. The way it’s used almost sounds like whenever a man does a bad thing, it’s a case of toxic masculinity. I suppose that’s possible, but it’s not very helpful. I try very hard not to do bad things. I’m sure I mess up from time to time, though. Does that make me toxic? I hope not.
Anyway, back to the original question, what is masculinity? If it’s not whatever men do, could it be whatever society deems masculine? Again, it’s possible, but it doesn’t seem likely to me. First of all, it changes from culture to culture and from time period to time period. Just read Things Fall Apart. Okonkwo’s sense of masculinity is nothing like the missionaries’ masculinity. Nor is it like a modern American’s sense of masculinity.
With what I’ve said thus far, it makes me wonder if masculinity is a word without a referent. If there’s no there there. I suppose that’s possible, but, again, it doesn’t seem likely to me. Too many people talk about it too confidently for it to be an empty term. It can’t be as elusive as the self, and I believe that there is a self.
So, it seems like I’m stuck. Is this the trap my partner was talking about? Am I back to the beginning? I hate to say it, but I may be back to Gaston. Why do I say that? Well, when I think about what I know about masculinity, it seems to be the stereotype. Men need to be strong. They shouldn’t cry or even show much emotion at all. They always want sex, and, if they’re real men, they have a lot of sex. Masculinity is things like that. I know it’s all a load of hooey, but if I’m being honest, I’ve internalized a lot of those things.
I think this is the other part of the trap my girlfriend talks about. Men internalize a lot of nonsense. It’s hard to shake it even though we know it’s not real. There’s no actual reason why men can’t, or shouldn’t, cry. I know that. But, when it comes down to it, I try really, really hard not to cry. Ever. Even when I’m by myself. I know it would even be healthy to cry more, but it doesn’t make any difference.
I don’t even know where I internalize this stuff from. Not from my parents, friends, or neighbors. Not even from Gaston. He was the bad guy and made to look a fool. In the vast majority of the media I consume, the good men are vulnerable and sensitive. I didn’t internalize that, though. I guess it’s just something in the air.
The other thing I seem to know about masculinity is when I don’t feel masculine, when I’m emasculated. These are the stereotypical things, too. I feel emasculated when I’m unemployed, when I need to ask for help, when I lose control, and things like that. I know that none of these things reflect on my manhood, but there you go.
I don’t know. I’m not finding any really great answers here. I seem to spend a good chunk of my adult male life fighting against everything I “know” about masculinity. It’s a trap all right. I just don’t know how I stumbled into it or if I’ll ever get out of it. And I still don’t know what, if anything, real masculinity is. It’s all so confusing.
I’ve been trying to write this for more than a month now. More than a month to get to almost 800 words with a few emasculating admissions and no conclusions. Maybe I’m losing my touch. Or maybe real men can’t write about masculinity. We’re too busy being masculine. Another load of hooey, I know. But it feels better than admitting I’m stuck in a trap.
