Oh I dated men and women, mostly men though. And they were pretty much all alike, shallow as bottle caps, only interested in getting their rocks off. That’s how men are. So I did make a choice, to be celebate and live a solitary life, which was over 40 years ago and without the distraction of other people, I did pretty well for myself. I now have a house I’ll never live long enough to see all the rooms in (not literally, of course) but, I do enjoy my own company better than having other guys around. I keep busy with other stuff, but that’s just me. TMI.
As a recovering misanthrope myself, a quote that really changed my life was this (and please don’t take it the wrong way): “If you go about your day and run into one asshole, that’s the asshole. If everyone you meet is an asshole, you’re the asshole.”
Glad to hear you’re working on it, though. Sometimes the best solution is to just give on something you’re trying to accomplish and rethink your approach from the ground up. It’s not easy, and it can take a very long time, so I’d like to commend your integrity and strength of character for making that choice and wish you all the best for your recovery.
I’m sorry you had such a poor experience with men and relationships. It’s not my place to speculate, but it sounds like you may have had some really harrowing experiences. It’s good that you’ve found a lifestyle that makes you happy. Your first comment in this thread is really painful to read and makes me very sad. It’s also not my place to debate with you about whether or not your comment is right/good, so instead I’ll just share some of my background and why I feel pain when I read it.
I was absolutely raised to be “manly.” My father, the Boy Scouts, popular media—all of it seemed like it was encouraging me to just “toughen up” and be strong. Nobody ever talked to me about feelings except anger. My dad was a great role model for anger. However, I was small. I was weak. I had allergies and asthma. I was sensitive and scared of violence. I cried easily. I was cuddly. It was very difficult for me to square what was expected of me with the reality of who I was, so for a long time I was just angry and numb and tried to hide.
I had a series of relationships where I failed to be emotionally present with my partner and rather than fixing it, I just emotionally whipped myself raw in front of them. I thought that punishment was the only way to be accepted. I finally met someone who showed me what it was to feel and helped me see a therapist. I was able to unpick a lot of the “manly” crap, and nowadays I’m pretty happy in my skin. I crochet with my partner. We talk freely and openly about our feelings. We call each other disgustingly cute pet names. We hold each other and cry when bad things happen. We both continue to go to therapy, and we’re always looking for ways to improve and deepen our relationship.
For all of that, there’s still the old raw spot in my mind. Inside of me, I’ll always have that kid who just wanted a hug and instead got contempt and judgement. He was so lonely and miserable and felt like there wasn’t anything nice in the world for him. He felt so confused and broken and wrong, because why couldn’t he just be manly? Why couldn’t he be a rock? That’s the raw spot that your comment pokes for me. I suspect I’m not alone in that.
Having typed all that out, I guess I’ll make one request. I don’t know what exactly you went through, and I sure as hell won’t invalidate it, whatever it was. All I’d ask is that you consider that there may be more than just sex and hate in the heart of the men you walk by. You don’t have to be in a relationship or like men or want to be around them, but the world might seem like a bit better of a place for you.
Oh I dated men and women, mostly men though. And they were pretty much all alike, shallow as bottle caps, only interested in getting their rocks off. That’s how men are. So I did make a choice, to be celebate and live a solitary life, which was over 40 years ago and without the distraction of other people, I did pretty well for myself. I now have a house I’ll never live long enough to see all the rooms in (not literally, of course) but, I do enjoy my own company better than having other guys around. I keep busy with other stuff, but that’s just me. TMI.
As a recovering misanthrope myself, a quote that really changed my life was this (and please don’t take it the wrong way): “If you go about your day and run into one asshole, that’s the asshole. If everyone you meet is an asshole, you’re the asshole.”
Glad to hear you’re working on it, though. Sometimes the best solution is to just give on something you’re trying to accomplish and rethink your approach from the ground up. It’s not easy, and it can take a very long time, so I’d like to commend your integrity and strength of character for making that choice and wish you all the best for your recovery.
I’m sorry you had such a poor experience with men and relationships. It’s not my place to speculate, but it sounds like you may have had some really harrowing experiences. It’s good that you’ve found a lifestyle that makes you happy. Your first comment in this thread is really painful to read and makes me very sad. It’s also not my place to debate with you about whether or not your comment is right/good, so instead I’ll just share some of my background and why I feel pain when I read it.
I was absolutely raised to be “manly.” My father, the Boy Scouts, popular media—all of it seemed like it was encouraging me to just “toughen up” and be strong. Nobody ever talked to me about feelings except anger. My dad was a great role model for anger. However, I was small. I was weak. I had allergies and asthma. I was sensitive and scared of violence. I cried easily. I was cuddly. It was very difficult for me to square what was expected of me with the reality of who I was, so for a long time I was just angry and numb and tried to hide.
I had a series of relationships where I failed to be emotionally present with my partner and rather than fixing it, I just emotionally whipped myself raw in front of them. I thought that punishment was the only way to be accepted. I finally met someone who showed me what it was to feel and helped me see a therapist. I was able to unpick a lot of the “manly” crap, and nowadays I’m pretty happy in my skin. I crochet with my partner. We talk freely and openly about our feelings. We call each other disgustingly cute pet names. We hold each other and cry when bad things happen. We both continue to go to therapy, and we’re always looking for ways to improve and deepen our relationship.
For all of that, there’s still the old raw spot in my mind. Inside of me, I’ll always have that kid who just wanted a hug and instead got contempt and judgement. He was so lonely and miserable and felt like there wasn’t anything nice in the world for him. He felt so confused and broken and wrong, because why couldn’t he just be manly? Why couldn’t he be a rock? That’s the raw spot that your comment pokes for me. I suspect I’m not alone in that.
Having typed all that out, I guess I’ll make one request. I don’t know what exactly you went through, and I sure as hell won’t invalidate it, whatever it was. All I’d ask is that you consider that there may be more than just sex and hate in the heart of the men you walk by. You don’t have to be in a relationship or like men or want to be around them, but the world might seem like a bit better of a place for you.