I feel like an asshole admitting it but I absolutely used to chuckle any time a man told me he was a feminist and then started passionately going on about women’s rights and equality. I just found it so peculiar to pour so much into an issue that I was sure couldn’t be hitting as hard as it did for the more womanly feminists. Sorry, guys. For what it’s worth, I’m sure there are people chuckling as I passionately rant on about how men need to have space to openly talk about and process emotions. It took a while, but I see now that you don’t have to be the same as someone to care a lot about them. So, in a world quick to villainize men when they act out, know that there are people that still see the good.
Men
It was a man who I ran to on the day I wished the world was flat so that I could drive straight off the edge.
It was a man who clothes-lined me at the waist, pulled me into his body, and let the torrents of tears and snot be absorbed by his shirt after I just broke both of our hearts.
It was a man who took me to get my septum pierced, and only told me after the deed was done that he usually hates them but I pull it off well because he knew I was impressionable and didn’t want to sway my decision.
It was a man who let me cry on the phone for hours, as he choked down his own rage to soothe me after I met a man who wasn’t ready to hear the word “no”.
It was a man that waited two weeks to tell me I stomped on his heart the day I drunkenly confessed to being SO in love with one of my friends that dating felt like cheating because he knew I was already stressed about finals.
It was a man who told me that he realized I don’t need anyone, and that I don’t need protecting, but that he wants to be there to support me as long as I’ll let him, and who quietly back out when I decided not to.
It was a man that told me he didn’t expect anything from me just because he made me dinner then made a move after I was too oblivious to see past my self doubt.
It was a man who told me that I’m easy to love, and just held me after I asked if it’s so easy why I can’t seem to do it myself.
It was a man who, after I yelled at him, told me to go look in the mirror because I look the most beautiful he’s ever seen me when I’m standing up for myself.
It was a man who thanked me when I told him I wasn’t interested in dating, and then asked me if we could still be friends because he liked hanging out with me when I didn’t even realize until then that I had a value to men beyond sexual.
It was also a man who cornered me in a study room and wouldn’t listen when I said I was uncomfortable and wanted him to stop.
And it was a man who would keep pushing his way through the dozens of no’s until a “yes” finally came out just so he would leave me alone and let me sleep.
And it was a man who told me to watch what people post of me on social media because he might get embarrassed if someone sees the wrong thing.
And it was a man who made me feel uncomfortable, yelling out lewd remarks as I walked past on my way to the bus stop.
And it was a man who continually tore me down out of fear that if I stood up for even a moment, I might run and he won’t be able to catch me.
But I don’t want to identify men by the vagrants that I’ve encountered, moving from woman to woman, hoping they’ll be able to find one just hollow enough to take up residence in.
I want to remember men by the stranger in front of my mom at the concert, that bought her waters for her.
By the man that said “I have to go” and abruptly hung up the phone without saying “I love you” but only because he saw a flower shop and needed to pull over before he passed it up.
By the man in the aisle that you KNOW is struggling as he’s trying to pick out tampons for his daughter because her mom isn’t around to help guide them through this.
By the laughs shared, tears wiped, hands held, and love given.
I choose to remember men the same way I remember that perfect sunny day, with all of the warmth and light but leaving out the burns left where the sunscreen didn’t cover.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 