I Used to Hate Men, Now I Love Them. Here’s What Changed.
3 years ago, I really hated men.
Like, all men.
I was attracted to romantic partners, but I felt sort of like I was in competition with them — trying to get them to like me, trying to be the one who cared less.
My best friend was reading this book called “The Queen’s Code.” And she was going on and on about how much it was changing her life, how she adored men now.
I told her I couldn’t even count on one hand the amount of men in the world I actually admired or respected.
Last night, I burst into tears while having the most incredible orgasm with my partner. Pleasure blended with sobs, the energy crashing through my body.
I opened my eyes, and I saw the kindest eyes ever watching me, fully present with whatever I was experiencing. Fully holding me.
Yesterday, I had a coaching session with a man who sees every part of me super deeply, who validates my entire existence so effectively, so strongly.
I broke down, showing all sides of me. I was sure he would think I was too much, too dramatic.
Sobbing to my partner was one thing, sobbing in front of him was another.
He embraced all of my emotions. He was fully present, unwavering. Fully holding me.
Earlier this week, I had a session with a different man, who brought me into a visualization so powerful that my body shook and I could barely stand.
I cried (again). My arms were spread wide. We stood across from one another, a few feet apart, while he gently talked me through the exercise.
Every insecurity I had came to the surface. My face was totally exposed and I sobbed, makeup running down my face.
He laughed with me.
He was fully present, totally affirming. Fully holding me.
3 different men, 3 very different roles in my life.
I realized yesterday that I now have a team of strong men around me.
It feels really fucking healing.
I know what shifted, but it’s taken a long time.
I grew up in the patriarchy. Because I was raised in a system that gave men more privileges, I blamed men.
I was attracted to men, but deep down my body believed they were the enemy.
I read that book my friend gave me.
I was irritated by the book. It made me consider how much I had participated in the emasculation of the men in my life.
How much did I roll my eyes when men asked if they could help me?
How much did I wish they could just read my mind?
How much did I ridicule the things they did with their friends?
How much did I make fun of fragile masculinity?
How much did I feel above them — because no matter what they were experiencing, society had hurt me worse?
While having fun being bitter and making fun of men with my friends, I totally missed the fact that men were hurting, too.
When I started coaching men around their sex lives, it became even more apparent.
Men came to me whose wives wanted nothing to do with them, whose wives were not interested in sex and didn’t want to kiss them anymore.
Men came to me who felt secretly insecure about how long they lasted in bed, who felt ashamed about watching porn, who felt like they wanted to initiate sex but didn’t know how.
Men came to me to tell me about the sexual and emotional abuse they had experienced when they were younger.
Men came to me because they wanted to be better lovers to their partners.
Their reasons were never “I am a man and I deserve sex and she should give it to me.”
Their reasons were “I love when she’s happy, she lights up everything around her, she’s the best mother in the world. I miss physically connecting with her, I don’t know why things changed.”
It’s reactionary, really. The divide between men and women, between older couples especially.
Women grow up in a society where they are less than men. Men often don’t understand how that feels, how far-reaching and oppressive it is.
Men grow up in a society where they are taught to not connect with their bodies or ever express their emotions. Women often don’t understand how difficult that makes being human, how suppressive that is.
Both genders (or all genders, since gender is fluid) grow up being shamed a lot for being their true selves and not knowing how to connect deeply and intimately with one another.
The solution lies in two things.
One is self work and being willing to understand how we contribute to the difficult relationships in our lives.
Being willing to take responsibility. Being willing to open our eyes.
Two is in being willing to have open and vulnerable conversations with one another. Especially with our partners.
Do you know your partner’s deepest fears about themselves and about you? Well, you should.
Emotionally healthy, comfortably vulnerable, openly sexual adults raise incredibly secure children.
I used to believe men were the enemy.
Really, the enemy was the false narratives given to me by the world around me, that I kept in place myself.