15 July 2007


Part Four

As one matures hopefully becoming self-aware is inevitable. Bringing with it an observation, in this instance the submissive nature occurring between the sexes; American men are kowtowing to women. It became apparent to me while traveling with my sister to Greece in 2000. The emotional warmth, masculine confidence and aggressiveness that men are organically born with, that deep-seated nature is being squelched by women; mothers, wives and girlfriends in the American landscape. When it comes to the female contender that they love and care for, a percentage of American men have lost their voice and backbone.

Several years ago the author Sam Keen uncovered this topic in his book, "Fire in the Belly" as did Robert Bly in, "Iron John." Being a single New York City woman I encounter men of my generation and younger that are suppressing their natural essence when it comes to the opposite gender. In the last two years I have spoken to numerous single women of different ages, and back grounds in a variety of shapes and sizes. And when discussing men the grievances remain the same, 'he's afraid of women.' I was disturbingly surprised that it wasn't me after all. Although this realization saddens me because I adore all men, especially for their masculinity, quiet strength, aggressiveness and in moments, tough-guy attitude. I have gravitated towards those qualities in men from the seduction of the silver screen. The epitome of maleness exuding from Bogart, Gable, Cagney, Robinson, Pacino and DeNiro. I know it's not fair to say since they are actors playing a role, but equally so it isn't fair to be held up against the bathing beauties in "Sports Illustrated." As men use Super Models and Playboy Bunny’s to gauge the ideal woman.

But this isn't a retaliation for a society of impossible standards for the beautification of women. This isn't about appearances whatsoever---it's about character. There's something to say about the confidence in a mans ability to sweep you off your feet…and if only they knew how simple it was to do. In my life it’s only happened once. It was while I was at a friends house-party eyeing this thirty-something gentleman for hours. Flirting upon his leaving, I asked him for a kiss goodbye. He took me in his arms and dipped me backwards to the floor. I held onto him as I fell within inches of the hard wood. He pecked my cheek. I felt extremely girlish and giddy as I was enveloped in his manliness, his quiet strength, his confidence. I relinquished myself to him, trusting he would protect me and not drop me. In his spontaneous response to my request, I was taken by his sweeping goodbye---he could of effortlessly captured my heart, with a simple dip. I never saw him again and I hear he now lives in Singapore. It was his gallant goodbye I'll never forget.

During an uptown ride on a local Manhattan transit bus to Lincoln Center, I noticed a subordinate interaction occurring between an older woman and her white-haired fifty-something husband, boyfriend or maybe even son. When they stepped on the bus she sat in the front seat available for the elderly and handicapped. He sat beside her, as one would when out with another. I sat alone in a seat beside them. Repeatedly, she said to him, "Sit there, sit there," as she pointed to the vacant seat next to me. At first he didn't budge. After another command, "Sit there," he moved.

I watched this interaction with a critical eye then spouted, "Can't he sit where he wants to?" Flustered with my apparent intrusiveness she retorted, "I thought he'd be more comfortable if he sat there." I thought to myself, ‘Well why didn't you suggest it that way. And how do you know what's more comfortable for him?" I waited for her to make another remark to "mind my business" so I could add another four-cents and tell her, "Mothers, wives and girlfriends have done a nice job over the years at castrating the American male. And being a part of the single female population I have to contend with 80 percent of the heterosexual male population being afraid of women."

I don't understand why mothers want to raise their sons to fear women instead of respecting and honoring them. The girlfriends and wives take the reins from the mother and continue "whipping" the man, pulling back on the bit, keeping his blinders on so the man doesn't fall out of line or stray. A man is a wild horse, unbridled with a beautiful inherent power, strong, with a sleek, raw, bountiful energy. The woman throws a saddle on his back at an early age and rides him until she breaks him. After he relinquishes his innate, masculine power he has opted for a life saddled, running circles in a corral.

Women have for whatever reason repressed the essential male desire to live his potential as a capable, confident, fearless stallion. The God-given beauty only men possess is cloaked with the ashes of fear and doubt. As he is not being who he was born to be. This is a calling out to all women---let our men run peaceful and free. We need them to be the men God intended them to be, the caretaker of our hearts, the passion of our Spirits, and the lovely manliness that quenches and nourishes our Soul.

Because of the American society's rearing practices between son's and mother's. Father's unfortunately take a back seat to this ritual. And if they themselves fear women, the fear is simply passed down through the generations. Ultimately giving us a homogenized version of man, created by woman. As women we need to support our men and reassure them that we are nothing to fear. That we need their manliness, their power, their strength, their warmth, their protection, their support, their logic, their courage, bravery and their intelligence…mainly, their love. For without it, a woman would merely be a wo_ _ _. And man would be---extinct.

Originally written July 21, 2001

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