in response to "fuck dinner, part 2", loyal reader noblesavage commented as follows:
"You are stretching this out aren't ya? Is this your image of masculinity? Or something? Would really like to know how this formed you."
and the answer to his first question is, yeah--i'm stretching it out a lot. because in the process of writing part 1 (which was all it was ever supposed to be), all these long-buried memories started surfacing--things i hadn't thought about in years--and i actually enjoyed the process of dragging them outta the vault and exposing them to light. in fact, it's probably the first time i've gotten how therapeutic writing can be in and of itself, and as a result, part 3 of this story is probably gonna be even longer than part 2--and what's more, now that i'm into it, you can expect even more of this self-indulgent take-a-walk-with-me-down-memory-lane crap in the future (it is my blog, goddammit). maybe i'll post a warning at the beginning of such future posts, save you all a bunch of time.
as to the second question: as children, we all--gay or straight, male or female--form indelible impressions of what a man is and should be by observing the way the men in our lives handle themselves; god knows that was true for me--and yeah, it had serious repercussions in my life. maybe i'll go into that more in a future post.
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4 comments:
Thanks to you guttermorality for your thoughts. I do agree that writing can be very theraputic. I also find that connecting my memories to my own feelings is essential.
My first impressions of what a man should be were heavily formed by my mother's side of the family. Basically, as I internalized it then, the men were there to drive the cars and the women decided everything. Mostly, the women ruled by nagging or threat of nagging. Usually the threat of nagging was enough because the men had been so worn down by past nagging, they could not take it any longer.
For me, it gave me a rather negative view of what it meant to be a man. It took me years to reclaim (or claim) a pride and purpose in being a man and all things masculine. That happened at the gym for me lifting weights. At least that is what started it.
Now, in dealing with my matriarchs of my family, I am able to stand up firmly and be respected in ways I probably never would have been able to do before. But it came only after a lot of internal digging.
that's interesting, noblesavage. contrary to your experience, the men on my father's side were generally dominant in their families (and not overly so, but they were definitely men); however, my mother's brothers, while not weak men, both married shrewish women. in all cases, though, there was clear (and mostly positive) demarcation between male and female roles in my upbringing
Interesting. I don't picture either one of you to be all that much older than myself, but what do I know?
I grew up in a feminist household--equality of rights under the law, blah, blah, blah...a woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle...ERA bracelets and marches on Washington with NOW...Ms. Magazine on the coffee table next to People.
My mother tried to make me afraid of my father, to paint him as this extreme disciplinarian (wait til your father gets home! and all that shit), but he really wasn't.
Nor was she as strong a feminist as she believed herself to be.
The 70's were a very odd time to be a child.
it's true, judi--regardless of what else you might say about my childhood, i was raised in an era when women actually appreciated having (real, non-neutered) men around, and i can't tell you how glad i am of that fact.
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