It's all about perspective

Posts tagged ‘standards’

Standards

I hate the standards associated with American masculinity. Men don’t cry. Men do not show weakness. Men must be strong. Men must not show fear. Men must have a long list of conquests. Men must be aggressive. Men must be able to fix everything. Men must dominate those weaker than them.

I want to know who the hell said I am no longer a man if I cry! I want to know who created the social stigma that keeps me from being labeled as one of the guys. My best friend in the entire world told me that I’m just a “sensitive guy,” but there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Yet ever since then he has tried to “train” me in the ways of men. Giving me pointers and advice and in a way telling me who and what I am is wrong. But there’s nothing wrong with being a sensitive guy. Right? Right. Bullshit.

Everywhere I look there are ads showing ridiculously cut and highly tanned men doing all sorts of “manly” things. These ads are showing the myth of the regular guy. This is what a man is supposed to look like. This is what a man is supposed to be doing on his days off. This is how you are supposed to be doing it. I am so sick of this crap.

I’m overweight, granted, but I’m working on that and it is a slow process. I’m just so tired of being ignored because I don’t fit the model. I am the nice guy that no one believes is around anymore. I’m courteous, I’m nice, I’m genuinely concerned about my fellow humans, I would not hurt a fly unless it bit me, but because I’m overweight, because I’m not an aggressive prick, and because I don’t brag about my conquests over other human beings, I’m ignored.

Case in point: My best friend is everything I am not. He is in fantastic physical condition. He is a braggart. He is aggressive. He rarely ever shows weakness. When we go hang out to grab a bite to eat or some coffee, I get ignored. The waitress will walk by and ask him specifically if he needs anything and will then walk right away. I remember at the last restaurant we were at, he got a refill three times, while my glass sat empty for twenty minutes. I know, I should have said something sooner, but I didn’t. I wanted to tell her when she asked if we would like to go cups that I would if she ever would have refilled my drink, but that it wasn’t necessary now. Of course I didn’t say this though.

I’m tired and I’m done. I’m also late for work, crap.

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