As the embarrassment subsided, I randomly started wondering why it is that I am okay with being teased by women but if a man did the same thing I will likely immediately flip to alpha mode. I definitely hold a double standard about what I accept in regards to how people can act towards me.
I think a lot of it has to do with my past. As a four-sport athlete for most of my life, I was constantly immersed in a world of toxic masculinity. That world has some simple rules. Respect strength. Go with the flow. If you are not the alpha, stay in line or you’ll be sorry. Value the stability of the herd.
Fuck the herd. Seriously. Fuck the herd.
I was surrounded by this shit twelve months a year. Baseball, Basketball, Football, Soccer. I was surrounded by this. I couldn’t quit. I couldn’t even consider it out loud. I was good at it. I hated it. Watch them bully a kid, beat him up, and call him a faggot because he isn’t good at sports. Watch them treat people like shit who aren’t strong or fast. Watch them talk about what girls will suck dick on their first date. I got tired of watching. I committed social suicide.
I dared to oppose the herd. I defended the weak. I stood up to the alpha, knowing he was an idiot and that he would actually balk when confronted. I turned myself into the target. I was around them twelve months a year. The other kids grew faster than I did. I got chubby. Their size made them relatively better at sports while I stayed the same. I was the target. My best friend abandoned me in favor of social mobility among the ranks. I got used to fighting back, but it wore me down.
I never understood the resentment that came my way for believing in right and wrong. As much as my exterior didn’t show it, I never stopped caring for people. I couldn’t stand to see someone be beaten down when there was something I could do to stop it. I grew to be defensive. I learned to be aggressive. I bared fangs and claws. These were necessary. Fuck the herd.
My father was no better. Don’t be a pussy. Don’t be a quitter. Boys don’t cry. What are you, a girl?
I find it nearly impossible to trust men. I have a couple of male friends but it took a long time for closeness to develop and they all experienced similar things to me in the past. I tend to be a magnet for those who said, “fuck the herd,” and I still find myself a target for those who obey man-laws. I still carry sharp fangs and claws.
Why then would I permit women to treat me in such a way that if it was done by a man, I would pummel them? I’ve been thinking about that for a while now. Years, actually, and I have been revisiting it for the past couple of hours. Part of it is the inherent gentleness and emotional attunement that women seem to exhibit. I could probably wax eloquently about the beauty of that all, but given the tone so far of my post, it would probably feel pretentious, so I will leave it at that. I’m guessing you know what I’m talking about.
The other part is that I feel like when I am teased by women it is that they really see me and they tease, accept, or reject who I really am. By contrast, I’ve always felt like the herd judges me for who I am not. I don’t bow to the herd. I don’t prove that I am as big of a douche as the person standing next to me. I don’t kiss and tell. I don’t say things like, “bros before hoes.” I won’t lie for a man to cover up his indiscretions. I violate every man-law in the book. I will never let them see the real me.
With women, I do allow them to see the real me. Their behavior towards me is based upon the real me. Even if they end up rejecting me, it is for their own reasons and based upon actual evidence. If they tease me, it feels okay, because the aspects that they tease me about are real, embarrassing, and often shameful. Should I fault someone for being truthful and honest? Of course not.
This is my double-standard.
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