Hannah and I were lifting this week, and she asked me if I ever dated women. I asked her what prompted this sudden curiosity about my dating history, and she said, “You seem to really hate men.” I laughed it off. Of course not! I love men! In fact, some of my best friends are men. I have a dad, three brothers and a husband! (Alas no son, which would really make sure I could never ever be a misandrist, but maybe one day I’ll have one to boost my platform. A girl can dream.)
But Hannah’s comment and the way it made me feel has me reflecting on my relationship to men. So much of what I complain about on my blog is about men in sports, and almost all of the people I promote and uplift are not men. The HUGE majority of my negative experiences in sports have been created by men, and a lot of the institutional failings of sports have male fingerprints all over the designs. It made me think about how so many of my interactions with men in sports rub me the wrong way– and actually how the majority of my interactions with men in general rub me the wrong way. When a strange man approaches me, my hackles immediately go up.
Is it me? Am I the drama?
I grew up in a large family full of boys, and was a huge tomboy growing up. My best childhood friends were boys, and I often had the thought that I’d much rather be a boy: I had the sense that life would be much simpler that way. In other words, I was not taught to dislike men. I never really thought of myself as a feminist/part-time misandrist until I went to college. Or more specifically, when I went to college and then came home. Over my freshman year winter break I was propositioned by one of my childhood “best friends.” He asked me to have sex with him, “because I was a girl and he didn’t want to be a virgin anymore.” Ask any woman you know. There’s absolutely a turning point where we understand that to be a woman, or really just not a man, is to be treated less than. By people we know, people we love, people we’ve never met, people on the internet. This type of incident is not sensational, it’s mundane.
I had to google “what’s the word for misogyny, but for men” while preparing to write this article. And chances are, you had to as well. WHY, in a world created by and for men, where men hold a HUGE majority of the wealth and power, where men are protected to abuse and destroy, can there possibly be more need and use for the word that means a hatred of women? Because misogyny is necessary to keep women feeling less than, and convince men that women deserve to be second class citizens. Misandry is simply a reaction to that oppression, and therefore unnecessary for maintaining the status quo.
In sports, I’ve had men yell at me that I don’t belong, touch me without my permission, sweat on me, force me into uncomfortable situations and make me cry. And, as a white, cis, hetero woman in sports, I also know that my experiences are only a fraction of the discrimination and belittlement my friends of color and trans friends have gone through. The entitlement, the aggression, the gate-keeping and the discrimination of men in sport is just really quite overwhelming. Of course there are women who do this shit. There are women who bully people online and in person, and there are nonbinary people who are unkind and straight up shitty. But they just don’t perpetrate, in my experience, anywhere near the same level of bullshit.
So really, what I don’t understand is how I could not have a prejudice against men. I have had SO many negative experiences with men I don’t know, and so few with non-men I don’t know, that I feel like I’d be a bit of an idiot if I didn’t have that cautious prejudice. How could I not prefer the company of women and gender diverse people when, when I meet them, the words out of their mouths are usually supportive and generous? I so rarely feel condescended to, or made to feel stupid or inferior in my conversations with women.
I feel like somehow I’m legally obligated to say that OF COURSE there are exceptions. I love lots of men. The men I love are good, and kind. They are caring. They are loving. They are not afraid to be gentle, they are supportive in all of the right ways and care deeply for the people in their lives. I’ve also had wonderful interactions with male strangers, who have worked to be all things that men traditionally are not encouraged to be. They are good listeners and they are curious about the experiences of others. They ask before they touch; they think before they act.
So perhaps it isn’t men I hate per se, but the masculinity and the superiority that many men latch onto like starved leeches. It’s the fragility and the yelling and the Taylor Swift-bashing nonsense that I just can’t stand. It’s all the freaking noise and nonsense.
But also I think yes. I have a problem with a lot of men. They should change.
The end.
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Written by Skyler Espinoza
Em[Power] 