We are your teenage sons, brothers, nephews, cousins, and friends overwhelmed by social pressures to become billboards of strength- heartless, cold and void of the “feminine weakness” known as emotion. Our manhood is measured by our ability to perform in a competitive arena and judged by our physical attributes dictated by our genetics. From peers, we are perceived as cool when conquering women, and perceived cooler if she is thrown to the wolves at the finish.
When engaging in platonic interaction with the opposite sex, we cannot escape the permanence of the “friend category.” Because of this, critical thinking provoked by our superior head has become infrequently outspoken at all. Like robots, we succumb to a self-induced victimization of an ego-magnifying temporary satisfaction generating slaves to a self-worth defined by quantity.
When quality walks past our doorstep, we reluctantly submit to a time-out. She is simply too remarkable to let another man have the satisfaction of attaining. She embraces our vulnerability, and provides a safe house for our inadequacies. We wine and dine her, fill her thoughts with fairy-tale fantasies, conquer and repeat until she finally forces us into marriage.
Post nuptials, we try diligently not to allow this three letter word to consume each and every thought. However, with the lack of it from our ever-unsatisfied wife, it is a battle we know we have already lost. Once we acquiesce to our temptations through multiple venues beginning with the letter P, the withdraw from the only one who ever provided a true sense of worth begins. Our hours comprise of relentless battles of her trying to articulate emotions, and us wishing she would just give it up. When divorce divides her from our name, we re-enter this cycle as if a new conquering will save the game.
However, a decision to ascend our commitments will retire us from its yoke forever.
We are your teenage daughters, sisters, nieces, cousins and friends overwhelmed by social pressures involving premarital sex, drug use, and the desire to fit in to the cookie-cutter physical appearance of the girl next door. We are the give-in girls who offer our body in exchange for faux love and affection. We are the pregnant young women nearing single motherhood with limited emotional and financial resources. We are the career-driven, know our worth, 30+ singles patiently waiting for our compliment who continuously chooses to leave happy hour with the one-night stand. We are the long-term girlfriends behaving as wives while waiting for the much overdue, perfect proposal.
We are once head-over-heels turned nagging wives punishing our boundary-crossing spouses by withholding physical intimacy then accepting gifts in replacement of repentance. We are weight-fluctuating, unkempt, minivan-driving soccer moms who scour at the pre-baby versions of ourselves catching the eye of our sex-crazed husbands. We were the spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted women who routinely experience sleepless nights catering to our households, careers, husbands and on rare occasion- self.
We are caregivers to our disorder or disease afflicted family member on a daily diet of countless prescription medications. We are the ego empowering, spiritually vacant with more faith in anti-depressants than God simply because science could numerically prove, discount and reprove the effects. We are bitter, lonely, divorce-bound roommates trapped in confines of our smiles, lies and mortgage drowning four walls. Once we finally call it quits, we become the women who courageously re-enter the bra-burning cycle as if victim was the only role we ever play in our hardship.
However, as we ascend our commitments, victims, we are no more.