Don’t be a “man”, be human.
By: Sree Jaya
Tags: Love Yourself, Humanity, Men, Live, Love

I wanna talk about something that caught my mind lately, and is something that is not talked about very often. Every time I come across the word ‘masculine’ I really wonder what it actually means when people say “be a man”. It is associated with charisma and power. To pretend that you’re strong even when you feel weak, to pretend that you’re confident and secure and tough when you’re actually hurting inside. I don’t know if that’s what it actually means, but that’s what I’ve understood.

To be honest it seems more like you’re putting on a show. But can I just ask you, aren’t you tired of pretending? Isn’t it exhausting trying to be “man enough” for everyone around you all the time? Now I know how we are taught about what kind of girl you should grow up to be. Be gentle, be humble, don’t yell, don’t make noises when you walk, so and so. But I wonder how you are taught about what kind of man you should grow up to be. What could have you gone through to be accepted and valued by the other “men” and society. We are often told that ‘feminine’ is the opposite of ‘masculine’. You either reject any of these qualities or face rejection yourself to fall into one of these categories . It’s like a script that we’ve been given to. ‘Girls are weak and boys are strong’. This is what has been subconsciously communicated to hundreds of millions of young boys and girls all over the world.

As a part of the growing generation can I just say-This is wrong This is toxic. And it has to end.

I often get labelled as ‘boyish’. As a child, I used to take that as a compliment. But now it makes me think, ‘what about a person’s character defines if they’re girly or boyish’. It’s like there is a written law about how a person should be if they’re a girl or a boy. But I don’t have a desire to fit into the current broken definition of femininity. And it made me wonder if men feel the same way about masculinity. Because I believe that we should be human, rather than a “man” or a “lady”. And I believe that is possible only if men embrace the qualities that you’re told to be “feminine” and are already in yourself and to be willing to stand up like a champion and just like women stood up for voting rights.

Now, I’m not saying that everything we learned is toxic. I’m not saying you should stop being men. But we need balance. And it is time we take a look at the script that has been passed down to us generation after generation. And the role that you take as “men” in everyday lives.

One of the most common statements I’ve heard is “men shouldn’t cry”. When we were playing with my little cousin and he fell down, and the poor boy started crying and my granny picked him up and said “ayye aanpiller ayal karayaruth” meaning ‘boys shouldn’t cry’. And it struck me. He was barely 6 years old and that’s the kind of pressure they grow up with. They are denied the opportunity to even cry or show that they are vulnerable too. If you cry as a boy, there’s a high chance you’ll get bullied and be labelled “soft”. As they grow up they are taught to do “man stuff” like playing football, playing basketball, and getting into a fist fight, having a beer, going on road trips. And every time my little brother came up to me and my sisters to play with the kitchen set ( if you remember, was the most common girly game that we used to play as kids), he’d be made fun of by our family saying the same kind of stuff like “ayye chekkanmar adukale keri kalikunno” meaning ‘boys play within the kitchen?’.

But as I grew up, I realized that being a man was not about learning how to build a buffed up body or be 6 feet tall, you know “man stuff”. Instead, being a man was about sacrifice. And doing whatever you can, to take care and provide for your family. I learned this from my father. He was born and raised by two farmers. He grew up from nothing to being “the man of the family”. He worked and learned at the same time because his parents couldn’t afford his education. He earned a job, brought the family up to where it is today, he provided for his parents, his siblings and now is providing for his children and family.

But every time he brings up a story on how hard he worked to do what he did, I wonder how much he must have suffered in silence. I wonder if my brother, my friends, and in the future my son, will suffer in silence too. I wonder if they’d feel pain, and keep it to themselves than reach out to another man and open up. Why do they think they should do it all on their own? I know men who’d rather suffer in pain than letting another man know that they’re hurting. But it is not because they’re like a strong silent type person. Don’t get me wrong, men are really good at making friends, and talking about sports, politics or women. They have no problem opening about a lot of stuff. Just not anything real. Their insecurities, their fear of failure, and it’s almost like they become paralyzed.

So instead of feeling shame around in your life and passing over it, what if you dived straight into it? No matter how scary it is. Sometimes, even publicly. Because when you do so, you take away its power. And when you display vulnerability, it can give other men permission to do the same. Because when you start to open up, you’ll realize that you are not alone. Because as soon as you find the strength and courage to share your shame, it’ll be gone.

Over time I learned that if I need to practice vulnerability, I need to build myself a system of accountability. I am blessed with wonderful and understanding friends and family, who really support and engage with me whenever I need them to. But what I’ve noticed is that when my male friends or family members do the same thing that I do- showing that you can be vulnerable at times too, they are labelled as “kundan” meaning gay. Because public displays of vulnerability are looked down on for men. They are wrestling and struggling with their ego. Because time and time again what they do is play the role-rejecting the feminine. But it’s like they are secretly waiting for permission to express themselves. It’s tricky how men are actually cool with doing all the “man stuff”, but when they talk about their insecurities and fears, it’s considered gay. Like being gay makes you any less as a man.

So men, I understand that growing up you tend to challenge each other to be the toughest, the strongest, the bravest that you can possibly become. But are your identities wrapped up in whether or not at the end of the day you feel like you are “man enough”. So I got a challenge for all the guys (because men love challenges). I challenge you, to see if you can use the same qualities that make you feel like a “man”, to go deeper into yourself. Your strength, your bravery, your toughness, can we redefine what those mean and use it to explore our hearts. Are you brave enough to be vulnerable? To reach out to another man when you need help? To dive headfirst into your shame. Are you strong enough to be sensitive? To cry when you’re hurting or when you’re happy? Even if it’d make you look weak? Are you confident enough to listen to women in your life? To their ideas and their solutions and actually believe them, even if what they’re saying is against you? Will you be man enough to stand up to other men when you hear another ‘Locker room’ talk, when you hear stories of sexual harassment, when you hear your boys talk about ‘grabbing her ass’ and ‘getting her drunk’, will you actually stand up and do something so that one day we don’t have to live in a world where women have to risk everything and come forward to say the words ‘MeeToo’?!

Guys, it is serious. The deeper it goes, the uglier it gets. I don’t wanna go into porn, or the split of domestic duties, or the gender pay gap. But I believe that it is time, as men, you see past your privilege, and recognise that you are a part of the problem. The glass ceiling exists because you put it there. And if you want to be a part of the solution, then words are no longer enough.

And to women out there I want to say, don’t lose hope. We’ve come so far. We can all do it, together. Let us be their allies in celebrating their vulnerabilities, let us be patient with them, as they make this very, very long journey. From our heads to our hearts.

And to the parents, instead of teaching your children to be brave boys and pretty girls, could you maybe just teach them to be good humans?