This is going to be a touchy post (again, I say that as if someone other than me reads it) but it's something that's been on my mind for some time...
Women.
My brother, one of our close friends and my oldest friend have each said (and I quote) "I don't really like women." now my first inclination has always been to say, "oh, come on. You don't mean that. Look at our mothers. They are wonderful, nurturing people. How can you say you love your mom and that you don't like women."?
But at the core of all this is a deep and practically paralyzing fear: what if they mean it?
Before I go any further, there needs to be a bit of back-story given before you all (there's that silly notion again) begin to believe that I surround myself with misogynists. Because I don't.
(Names changed to protect the innocent)
Parker hasn't had the best luck with women. his longest relationship has been a whopping three months and he's just about a year older than me. He's always been the quiet type (yes, the ones that you need to watch out for) and he was recently in something deep with this girl that he constantly fought with. They fought about everything, he tells me, to the point that that was the core of their connection. One day, my patient parker snapped and scared the crap out of this woman that he says he loves. And well, I can't blame her. Parker's life has been something like mine--not at all what we wanted. So, I asked him "why do you not like women?" and he says to me "because I don't understand them and they do these things, you know?"
So I smile into the phone, right and I go "women speak another language because from birth they've been taught to be different from boys." and before he can pipe up with anything dumb like "I know and I blah blah blah" I continue with "and so have we."
And there you have it. In the land of plenty there's this system at work the separates boys from girls... and KEEPS them apart and then expects us to just up and connect again as if we didn't spend the most important and FORMATIVE moments of our lives being segregated. I mean, how can healthy and supportive relationships occur if we've got this terrible pressure of distance looming constantly?
So, then there's my brother. We'll call him Vietnam. He's a good guy with a lot to work through. A LOT. He's on his second marriage and doing the best he can. He doesn't want to be alone... he wants to belong. I think deep down that's always been his fear... to be alone... to not fit somewhere. So he found god and he found a wife and he found a career that he's always been interested in. but he's also found disappointment, deception and distance. Disappointment in the shape of a failed marriage. Deception in the shape of a dishonest wife. Distance in the shape of where he is from his wife and where he's going to work.
He's a good guy... he just wants... a lot... maybe too much. But he's in such a hurry to find it that he scratches the surface and only looks at what he wants to see... and that's not his fault. He cares, loves, supports, and does his best... and why not...
Finally there's Cotton. Cotton and I have known each other a long time but only became friends at my brother's second wedding. He's a good guy who doesn't understand women either... he wants what he can never find: perfection. He looks for women that can out run, out think, out drink, out do him... and while I don't think that's impossible to find... wanting someone who's perfect is asking a lot. Not just of them but from yourself. Perfect means no mistakes... no error. And that simply can't happen... because without mistakes, there's no forgiveness, no learning, no growth. A good relationship has to have its flaws. Flaws that make the relationship work... that make it unique. Perfection can't allow for that... and so Cotton is still alone... half way around the world, looking for peace and finding only agitation...
So what's the way from here? What do I tell these three guys who've found disappointment at the hands of women who have their own stories... their own reasons for what they do... their own disappointments...? What do I tell them when they say, "I don't like women" but search endlessly for a woman to love them in spite and because of their flaws?
I've thought hard and I think I know.
Grow up.
Yes, women are different. INCREDIBLY different. But you don't dislike their differences... you crave them... ache for them... seek them out and chase them with your very core... what you don't like is that you can't contain them. And that's how it should be... you don't like that you don't understand them... that you can't speak their language... that you can't find the answers to their difficult questions. Ultimately, you don't like that you can't find in them what you lost in yourself. But that's not their fault. Not all of them. Sure, there have been some bad women... I've met some... but there have been some jerks too... and I've BEEN some... but we try... they try... together and apart we try to find meaning and we try to connect and maybe we'll figure it out someday. Until then, I've only a few more things to say:
I love you, mom. Thanks for making the template one that's difficult to live up to and thanks for letting me know from the very first days that I played with girls and dolls that differences are good.
I don't always understand women... but I'll always love them. After all, without the first one I ever loved, I wouldn't even be here typing this.
Women.
My brother, one of our close friends and my oldest friend have each said (and I quote) "I don't really like women." now my first inclination has always been to say, "oh, come on. You don't mean that. Look at our mothers. They are wonderful, nurturing people. How can you say you love your mom and that you don't like women."?
But at the core of all this is a deep and practically paralyzing fear: what if they mean it?
Before I go any further, there needs to be a bit of back-story given before you all (there's that silly notion again) begin to believe that I surround myself with misogynists. Because I don't.
(Names changed to protect the innocent)
Parker hasn't had the best luck with women. his longest relationship has been a whopping three months and he's just about a year older than me. He's always been the quiet type (yes, the ones that you need to watch out for) and he was recently in something deep with this girl that he constantly fought with. They fought about everything, he tells me, to the point that that was the core of their connection. One day, my patient parker snapped and scared the crap out of this woman that he says he loves. And well, I can't blame her. Parker's life has been something like mine--not at all what we wanted. So, I asked him "why do you not like women?" and he says to me "because I don't understand them and they do these things, you know?"
So I smile into the phone, right and I go "women speak another language because from birth they've been taught to be different from boys." and before he can pipe up with anything dumb like "I know and I blah blah blah" I continue with "and so have we."
And there you have it. In the land of plenty there's this system at work the separates boys from girls... and KEEPS them apart and then expects us to just up and connect again as if we didn't spend the most important and FORMATIVE moments of our lives being segregated. I mean, how can healthy and supportive relationships occur if we've got this terrible pressure of distance looming constantly?
So, then there's my brother. We'll call him Vietnam. He's a good guy with a lot to work through. A LOT. He's on his second marriage and doing the best he can. He doesn't want to be alone... he wants to belong. I think deep down that's always been his fear... to be alone... to not fit somewhere. So he found god and he found a wife and he found a career that he's always been interested in. but he's also found disappointment, deception and distance. Disappointment in the shape of a failed marriage. Deception in the shape of a dishonest wife. Distance in the shape of where he is from his wife and where he's going to work.
He's a good guy... he just wants... a lot... maybe too much. But he's in such a hurry to find it that he scratches the surface and only looks at what he wants to see... and that's not his fault. He cares, loves, supports, and does his best... and why not...
Finally there's Cotton. Cotton and I have known each other a long time but only became friends at my brother's second wedding. He's a good guy who doesn't understand women either... he wants what he can never find: perfection. He looks for women that can out run, out think, out drink, out do him... and while I don't think that's impossible to find... wanting someone who's perfect is asking a lot. Not just of them but from yourself. Perfect means no mistakes... no error. And that simply can't happen... because without mistakes, there's no forgiveness, no learning, no growth. A good relationship has to have its flaws. Flaws that make the relationship work... that make it unique. Perfection can't allow for that... and so Cotton is still alone... half way around the world, looking for peace and finding only agitation...
So what's the way from here? What do I tell these three guys who've found disappointment at the hands of women who have their own stories... their own reasons for what they do... their own disappointments...? What do I tell them when they say, "I don't like women" but search endlessly for a woman to love them in spite and because of their flaws?
I've thought hard and I think I know.
Grow up.
Yes, women are different. INCREDIBLY different. But you don't dislike their differences... you crave them... ache for them... seek them out and chase them with your very core... what you don't like is that you can't contain them. And that's how it should be... you don't like that you don't understand them... that you can't speak their language... that you can't find the answers to their difficult questions. Ultimately, you don't like that you can't find in them what you lost in yourself. But that's not their fault. Not all of them. Sure, there have been some bad women... I've met some... but there have been some jerks too... and I've BEEN some... but we try... they try... together and apart we try to find meaning and we try to connect and maybe we'll figure it out someday. Until then, I've only a few more things to say:
I love you, mom. Thanks for making the template one that's difficult to live up to and thanks for letting me know from the very first days that I played with girls and dolls that differences are good.
I don't always understand women... but I'll always love them. After all, without the first one I ever loved, I wouldn't even be here typing this.