No, I’m not talking politics.
I’m not even talking about relationship dynamics.
What I’m talking is personality.
I mentioned recently that I had a very feminised upbringing. The cousins that came to stay most regularly were female, auntie, mother and sister.
Reading Iron John by Robert Bly, this appears to be a very common setup. The issue of ‘softness’ is inevitable.
Acts of so-called aggression are shunned but are they aggressive? I’m asking seriously.
I notice that people, especially women, have a habit of calling things aggressive if they’re contrary to their own point of view or preference. I don’t agree so I’m going to label you ‘bad’. This happened to me fairly recently re: a shared garage situation.
When people get their own way for a long time, they really don’t want to give it up. They will fight. This is something I’ve been at the receiving end of all my life.
I will admit, there are certain benefits to having a more developed feminine side than a lot of men. Easily expressing feelings, sudden cathartic releases of emotion (crying!) are sometimes useful, the downside is churning experiences and wounds over again and again can quickly become another form of procrastination.
“Oh, my anxiety won’t allow me to do this.”
“I feel too nervous to do that.”
Stagnation can be a sad inevitability.
I’ve done the gym thing and, actually, gotten quite strong and leaned out. The urge to get using my home gym equipment is returning. Just to figure out a way of not being starving all the time.
The goal is to unite all the different parts of me. Long and drawn-out process and very much a work-in-progress.
We are where we are.
We live in the time we live in.
That much is true and inescapable.
I’m working to accept the position I’m in and help others through the same.
Emasculation is real, we’ve thrown the balance to the overbearing mother in an enormous way.
It’s why I say that “No.” Is the best word you can learn to embody.
Not aggressive.
Not confrontational.
But assertive and boundary-defining
Watch this space (and perhaps the occasional ‘gym-selfie’).