My Brush With Toxic Masculinity
Apparently I've internalized a little more of it than I've realized.
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For the last 16 years and 6 months, I have been a stay-at-home parent. Consequently, I have been subjected to an enormous amount of abuse concerning my masculinity. Some of it has come from people who were not trying to be mean or cruel. A lot of it, however, has come from people trying to hurt my feelings.
I found it tiresome but it did not hurt my feelings. I was annoyed with friends and family who kept telling me that I needed a real job. As if raising children wasn’t a job. Tsk. The ignorance. I ignored them.
On the other hand, the people who were trying to belittle me on purpose? Those people were clowns. I didn’t ignore them. I heaped well-deserved ridicule on them. Watching insecure men pound their chests online while trying to make me feel less than was always good for a laugh. And that was before I learned the phrase “toxic masculinity.”
After a decade and a half of this nonsense and raising one and a half girls and being deeply invested in the success of feminism and stomping on knuckle-dragging jackasses online, I figured I was well and done with my own inner toxic masculinity.
But some things are not so easily shaken, apparently.
Now, I’ve never been a knuckle-dragging caveman type. But I grew up in the 80s and that was…a problematic time. Not as wretched as the 50s and 60s, of course, but it was pretty fucking bad. Racism, sexism, homophobia, and more. It wasn’t Madmen but my childhood and teen years are a source of cringe when I look back at them.
Still, one struggles to overcome and I was pretty sure I had done a reasonably good job of letting go of most of that baggage. Racism is the air we breathe so it’s harder to get rid of and keep gone. But toxic masculinity? I thought that was long tossed in the dustbin.
But like a bad penny, bad habits have a tendency to crop up unexpectedly. Such was the case last week at Great Wolf Lodge.
Deb and I took Jordan and Anastasia up to Baltimore for the day to get our wolf on and we were having a great time. Minigolf, Magi Quest, duck pin bowling, and…the ropes course.
I have never done a ropes course but Anastasia has. She was really excited to have another crack at one and I was curious to give it a try. So up we went. The first level of the course was about twenty feet up and the second level was another ten feet above that. It was a very economical and clever use of limited space.
Anastasia went first and zipped through. I went next and found that I did not particularly enjoy being on a ropes course. I am not afraid of heights but I am not enamored of them, either. I understood I was in a harness and that it was designed explicitly to keep me from falling but knowing that and feeling it are two very different things.
Part of the problem is that I’m long used to things being built for smaller and lighter people than me. I know I’m not nearly as heavy as I used to be and I know the equipment is meant to handle people my size or they (presumably) wouldn’t let me on the course. But it’s hard to shake that doubt. Hey, when you’ve had a ladder break while you’re standing on it, come back and tell me all about how unconcerned you are about equipment failure.
But, really, most of the problem was just that I didn’t like the sensation of being twenty feet off the ground on unstable footing. Yes, that’s the point of a ropes course but like I said, I’ve never been on one, and knowing what it is doesn’t really tell you what it feels like until you’re doing it.
The closest I can think of is the first time I went on a loop-de-loop roller coaster. I obviously knew I would be going upside down but knowing that didn’t really prepare me for the sensation. A sensation I discovered I did not enjoy at all.
The same thing happened the first time I did a 10-story drop ride at a carnival with Jordan. He loves doing a 2-story drop and really wanted to do a bigger one. I didn’t think this would be a great idea but he was insistent in his Jordan way. So off we went. By the time it reached the top, I could tell Jordan was regretting his life choices and I was well past that point. When it dropped, the look on Jordan’s face was one of profound unhappiness. We both got off and wobbled away.
We came, we saw, we did not enjoy.
And so it was with the ropes course. I got through the first four obstacles and stopped. Anastasia was already halfway through. I stopped and wasn’t quite sure what to do. Anastasia saw me and started to wave me forward. And that’s when Man Brain kicked in.
Despite the fact I was not at all comfortable and this was the only spot I would be able to get off of the ropes course without getting in anyone’s way (I didn’t realize I had paused at the only offramp until I looked around), I almost kept going. Why? Because I didn’t want to look “less manly” in front of my 14-year-old daughter.
I actually froze for a full 30 seconds while two parts of my brain argued with each other.
Would Anastasia think less of me?
Would I be embarrassed and humiliated?
How could I back down if my little girl was doing it so easily?
Blablabla Man Brain ran rampant with all the ways I could look foolish in front of my daughter if I didn’t “suck it up” and push through.
And then I remembered: I don’t actually need to prove my masculinity to my daughter. I’ve been doing that her entire life. From her earliest memories of playing dress up with her to watching My Little Pony and singing the songs at the top of our lungs. From letting her and Lila beat me to a pulp to teaching them how to cook. From carrying extra pads in my bag in case of a period emergency to picking them up in the store when the girls run low. From spending hours every week prepping and then running first one, then two Dungeons & Dragons campaigns for Anastasia and her friends.
Anastasia has watched me be a father all of her life. A man devoted to his children and his family. Always making time for her. Always showing interest in what excites her. Always there when she needs me.
There is literally nothing more masculine than that.
So I put Man Brain back to sleep and got off of the ropes course. I didn’t need to spend the next 20-30 minutes being uncomfortable to prove myself. I know who I am and so does my daughter. Anyone else watching? I could care less what they think. I am long past the point of considering the opinions of strangers. Benefits both of age and being an autism parent. You develop a total indifference to how the world looks at you.1
Eventually, Anastasia finished after Deb, Jordan, and I cheered her on from the ground. She asked me what happened and I told her I wasn’t comfortable so I got off. She shrugged and said, “OK.” So much for Man Brain’s insistence she would be ashamed of me. Stupid Man Brain.
Still, it was both interesting and irritating to discover that remnant of toxic masculinity tucked away in my brain. That little bit that fears looking weak in front of others, especially people who are important to you. Especially people you know won’t think less of you but toxic masculinity swears they will anyway.
It was almost enough to make me feel bad for the men incapable of tuning out that fear. Who give into it or, worse, wallow in it because they think it makes them strong. These are the men who have no idea what actual strength is. Actual strength isn’t “sucking it up” and “pushing through” so other people will be in awe of your masculinity. Real strength is being able to walk away because you don’t have anything to prove.
The very first time your autistic child has a meltdown in public, you have a choice: A. Be aware of how others view you and your child B. Completely tune the world out and focus on your child’s needs. Guess which I chose?
You also gave her a valuable lesson on listening to yourself. Sometimes we need to push through discomfort, for school, work, etc. But a totally voluntary activity? It's optional. I had that experience on the suspension bridge on Tom Sawyer's island at Disneyland. That's when I learned that no matter how effortlessly someone else can do it, it is not for me!
Masculinity and femininity are social constructs made up to keep us divided. Time to throw them in the dustbin. If we want to finally defeat the ruling class, who are killing us, we need to unite to defend ourselves against them. It's the only way us little person and the rest of life on Earth can win.