Missed Connections
We have a returning guest author for the Master in Love blog, Sofia Ciprian. Today she is sharing a reflection on how masculinity can create barriers in the relationships she shares with men in her life. Thank you for sharing Sofia!
My dad and I bond through an unspoken language. He helps me budget for the month, reminds me to change the tires on the car, grabs me a sandwich when he picks me up from the airport. He shows his love for me through these gestures, these actions that remind me how well he knows me and how he predicts my needs before I even realize I need them. I love this tradition and I carry it forward with my friends, leaving sticky notes on their doors to wish them luck before an interview, preparing dessert for them when we want to celebrate, accompanying them to shop for a big event. I follow my father’s footsteps in our shared way of showing love through action, through service. All his gestures mean so much to me, but gestures are not all you need from your dad.
Sometimes the best way to show you care is to argue. To have hard conversations and express your hurt. As I got older, I realized this is what my dad always tried to avoid in our relationship. No one likes to argue, that much I can understand. But especially with the people closest to you, these deeper forms of communication, and sometimes conflict, are necessary to let the relationship grow. And in so many of my other relationships, I found that to be true. Those tougher conversations and arguments are what helped reinforce the strength of our relationship, they proved that we could disagree and still choose to be in each other’s lives. It was a reflection of the care and effort we were willing to give. I care so much about you that I want to hear you out and meet you halfway. Through these vulnerable conversations, I gain trust and a deeper understanding of the people in my life. What happens when a relationship attempts to completely avoid conflict? How do we grow?
When it comes to my dad or other men in my life, any slight indication of conflict is treated like a step too far. The warning sirens go off in their minds and they abort mission. Change the topic! Leave the room! Start humming! There have been instances where my dad has heard me bring up a topic he does not like and he starts singing, as if the sound of a tune will make me forget why I even started speaking. I have even watched two male friends argue with their backs turned away from each other because they could not bear to look each other in the eyes while sharing their discontent. I have watched so many of the men in my life actively shy away from conversations the second they become too emotionally demanding or intense. It happens so often that I begin to question it too. Are men just incapable of having these conversations? Are we expecting too much from them?
I notice the stark difference between the relationships I have with most men versus most women in my life. The relationships I have with women feel vulnerable, intimate, and trusting. We feel comfortable sharing our unique perspectives, explaining our feelings, and expressing our care for each other. By having this open path of communication, we create space for the relationship to grow and to better see each other. Even if that sense of openness leads to disagreement and anger, we use it as a chance to commiserate in our hurt feelings, find a middle ground and move forward.
Meanwhile, many men choose to keep those feelings at an arm’s distance. Watching this happen frustrates me to the point that sometimes I wonder if they deserve their loneliness. They so willingly choose to avoid vulnerability and let all the emotional labor fall to the women in their lives, so maybe we should just stop trying to help. Let them sit on their lonely islands. As tempting as it is to lean into this way of thinking, I would be ignorant to say that men are the only ones to blame for this perpetuation of stoic, tough, solitary men. In many ways, we (those who are not men) let them get away with this inability to communicate. I often find myself coddling men or letting them avoid certain conversations because I assume they won’t be capable of partaking. I have tolerated their indifference and apathy too many times that now I catch myself enabling that behavior. I’m tired of having to play the role of the teacher and attempt to teach adult men how to regulate their own emotions and then communicate them. I’m tired of letting them treat me as their therapists so that they can mitigate daily conflict in their lives. I’m tired - but my attempts to ignore this epidemic of men with a phobia of communication will not make the problem magically disappear.
What would happen if they did not feel the need to constantly appear as tough and impenetrable personas? They might embrace this hyper-masculine image of themselves, but what if we stopped accepting that as the norm? The men in our lives do not possess fewer emotions or a smaller capacity to connect and relate to the people around them, so there is no reason why we should do them a disservice and excuse them from the conversation. We let them check out from the long-winded stories and say “I’ll save it for mom instead,” or we give up and say “he just wouldn’t get it.” We set them up for failure by not even giving them the opportunity to engage. This is not a burden that should fall just on women’s shoulders, but by removing them from the conversation entirely, we are lessening the capacity for growth in these relationships and also further isolating these men from our lives. As much as I want to bridge this gap with my dad for my own personal reasons, I also want to ensure that he has the ability to form these bridges with other people in his life. He deserves to have the space to express these vulnerable feelings and let go of his tough, protector father role. I think of my male friends who can’t face each other while arguing, and I want better for them. To let go of the embarrassment they might feel towards feeling hurt and instead be comfortable expressing insecurities in their friendship. To find a way to nourish trust and comfort, instead of indifference and performative masculinity.
Allowing men to let go of these assumptions and rules helps them, but it also helps women.
I say all of this for the sake of men, in the hopes that they can better understand their emotional capacity, but I also say it for the sake of women. Men who feel comfortable expressing their feelings helps all of us. It helps men to deepen connections and find community, while also helping women by lessening the impact of machismo and allowing men to better understand the importance of advocating for the women in their lives. By improving communication and vulnerability, we create a stronger sense of empathy and understanding of those different from us.
I want my dad and I to continue our secret code of caring gestures and reminders of our care for each other, but I also want to just be able to talk. To argue! To disagree! To express sadness! At least if we disagree it means we are learning more about each other and attempting to understand. I want him to see me and see where I am coming from. I want this for me and for our relationship, but I also want this for him. So he can see that there is space in this conversation for him too.