For almost 30 years, I was never accused of hating men. Not once. Heck, as a former pick-me girl, I probably liked them a little too much.
But now that I write articles about women’s empowerment, it happens on a weekly basis.
For fear of sounding like your uncle who claims he’s not racist because he interacts with a person of color in the break room at work, I genuinely don’t hate men. I swear.
In fact, some of my favorite people on Earth are men:
- My father, who taught me how to spackle sheetrock, play the guitar, cook linguine and clam sauce, and build a business from the ground up; who was an equal partner to his wife (back when they were married) and never more than a phone call away from his kids (even after the divorce).
- My best friend, who I’ve known since I was 14; who wears his heart on his sleeve, makes me laugh harder than anyone, and regularly rides his motorcycle over an hour to visit me now that I live out in the sticks.
- My partner, who’s vulnerable, empathetic, charming, hilarious, and intelligent — both cognitively and emotionally; who knows every facet of me and loves me not despite my baggage, but because of it.
- Keanu Reeves, Fred Rogers, and Jack Black, who are smart, kind, and super awesome.
What do all these men have in common? Two things:
First, they’ve never expected me to abandon myself for their benefit. Second, they’ve earned my love and respect by being wonderful human beings.
The Buddhist in me believes that we’re all inherently valuable from the moment we’re born.
The realist in me knows we have to earn it. This applies to everyone — men, women, and non-binary folks; people I know personally, acquaintances I interact with online, and famous strangers I’ve never met. While our humanity should be inherent, relationships are transactional, and we still have to earn other people’s respect.
Overall, I like people who are empathetic, vulnerable, humble and put effort into being the best versions of themselves. I dislike (note my choice of words, as I don’t hate anyone) people who are entitled, cocky, closed off, and resistant to self-improvement.
Unfortunately, privilege often fosters the latter qualities.
According to a 2020 study, especially privileged people are uniquely high in entitlement. Research also shows that those with privilege are typically less empathetic and more likely to feel unsubstantiated overconfidence about things they know nothing about.
While these studies factor in race, finances, gender, and social class, the pinnacle of Western privilege has long been the affluent, white male. In an unsurprising irony, it’s almost exclusively white men who are telling me that I am a man-hater.
This accusation began the moment I healed from my dissociative disorder and decided that I would no longer abandon my voice, my dignity, or my sense of self to make other people comfortable.
Coincidence? I think not.
It wasn’t just men on the internet, either. Guys I knew in real life threw temper tantrums over my newfound self-esteem. Blatantly ignored my boundaries, even though I couldn’t have stated them more clearly. Negged me in an attempt to knock me down a few pegs. Fired me (most likely) for speaking up about immoral business practices.
Why are these men so bothered by self-assured women?
Put simply, because the second you experience something enjoyable, you subconsciously become terrified of losing it. It’s called loss aversion, and in this case, some men are terrified of losing their privilege to women.
I’ve quoted social scientist Baird Brightman before, but his comment is so poignant that I have to quote him again:
“EQUALITY! That is what ‘feminism’ and every other liberation movement is about. But when a person is used to privilege, every attempt at equality feels like an attack. And hence the blowback.”
It makes so much sense.
If privilege is a resource, and resources are finite, then those who have always enjoyed said privilege probably won’t want to share it.
They certainly won’t want to compete for it — especially if they fear, deep down, that their gender and their skin color are the only reasons they’re ahead.
If qualified women take up space, less qualified men may be shoved to the sidelines. If capable women decide they deserve better, apathetic men can no longer contribute the bare minimum to relationships. If resilient women heal their deepest wounds, avoidant men will be forced to either acknowledge their own hurts, or be perceived as ignorant, detached, and emotionally stunted.
Formerly privileged men will have to fight tooth and nail to prove that they’re worthy of respect and acknowledgment — which is exactly what women have been doing for millennia.
So no, I don’t hate men; I like people who strive to become better people, regardless of the bodies and circumstances they were born into.
Source: Your Tango