The other day, I posted a reel on my public Instagram about men and shame, and it got a lot of private feedback from women who found that it resonated. That it mirrored their own experience and their frustrations.
I was speaking off the cuff, because I am not a creator in the true sense. Just a blogger with a camera.
“I could not care less what a man does for a living. I only care if he likes himself. Because a man with shame is a liar. He can’t help it because he’s always trying to cover something up that he’s deeply embarrassed by.”
Some of y’all will remember when the blog was at the height popularity, I was what, 25? All I can say is thank you for sticking with me. I look back at pictures (especially in the press!) from that time and I look…dead-eyed and deeply uncomfortable. I had no idea how to handle the public attention, the public scrutiny. But it came anyway.
I also had no idea of my own power. Just a platform and a voice and a huge desire to make other people like me.
Once I outed myself in the Times, I got what I thought of back then as hate mail from a renowned political columnist. But now I see it as a hard truth wrapped in exasperation. I remember she told me to get some self respect, which I was immediately defensive about. But honestly, I believe she was begging me to know myself. She was trying to do me a favor.
I think that’s what we’re asking from men my age. To have known themselves. To have done the work.
At yoga this morning, I jokingly asked how I was supposed to tell men I date that I’m….spooky. Which is really just code for deeeeeeply intuitive. I know way too much without being told. It’s a trait that, in the yoga space, is recognized and respected but in dating, it’s super tricky. I don’t have to remind y’all what happened in Vail. Oof.
Anyway, when it’s not freaking people out, or driving me batty, it’s pretty great. I anticipate needs before they’re even a conscious thought, which makes me really good at…stuff (she says with a wink), but also makes it really uncomfortable being with men who are performing. And I think a lot of men my age are still performing. Performing their roles, their masculinity, their relationships with power. And they don’t like themselves because of it. And that tension ripples outward.
Surprisingly, to me at least, I test very well with the 30-year-old crowd in online dating. And while I’m not quite ready to entertain cougar status just yet (it’s probably a whole lot of fun, tbh), there’s something really appealing about that demographic. They know, and are able to articulate who they are, what they want. They’re refreshingly self aware. Are they all going to therapy? All signs point to yes. If I decide to go that route, I’ll let y’all know.
In the meantime, here’s a little thought. If a woman you’re around brings you peace, that’s not an accident, baby. It means she’s done the work. And inevitably, you’re going to get very uncomfortable if you haven’t done yours.
