Let’s be real about real men.

I vainly re-read all my blog posts the other day, and I realized I probably come off as a bit of a man-basher. I want to officially declare that I do not hate or disrespect men. To the contrary, I absolutely adore the men in my life, from the cas friends up to my Pops and brother. It’s actually because I have so many great men in my life that I am so critical of Monsieur Averagé. I have seen what a man can be, and so anything less than that is an abomination.

idonthatemen

Speaking of manliness – as promised, I have finally landed on what I personally consider “a real man.” I don’t care if a man hunts, watches football, drinks beer, or has a magnificent beard. None of those are necessary or sufficient to be a real man.

A real man is someone who uses whatever manly powers he has for others. So there are two parts here – a man can’t be a man if he’s omitting his responsibilities, and a man can’t be a man if he’s using his physical strength, social position, economic power – or whatever – to exploit or dominate others. This is why my Dad and brother, although they don’t fulfill many of the male stereotypes, are the two who immediately come to my mind when I think about “real men.” Their manliness is apparent by the happiness and security of their families who they sacrifice and work tirelessly for. As primitive as it sounds – dare I say it? – they provide and protect, out of love. They’re not weak. They use their strength for their families, not against them.

Hurrah to real men!

 

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