I forgot how much of this hit close to home when I was reading it the first time, and re-reading it brought me to tears again. The part about hungering for a father's love certainly holds true for me; he was never really there. Gone most of the day, emotionally unavailable, never evoking any emotion in me but fear, and screaming at the sports on TV and becoming deeply upset with me if I dared to ask for anything during that time. Not always, mind you, but still. I also definitely find myself longing for love and not really knowing how to go about expressing an interest in it or attracting anyone or even just getting enough affection from the people in my life already.

And all the talk of men not being allowed to express their emotions... I feel that, doubly so because of all the masking I do. My emotions are very strong and I've found people disapprove of how I express them, so I became more and more muted over time until I was mostly stoic and able to hold things back, but doing a better job of hiding my tears than my frustration. The part where Hooks expresses how she'd freak out when her ex talked about his feelings was poignant. I've heard women expressing contempt for men who cry; as someone who does a lot of crying, it affects me. She mentions men in feminist circles being labeled as narcissistic or needy, attention seekers, things I'm afraid to be labeled as well.

The notion of love being tied to performance hit me as well. I've always felt I don't measure up as a man, don't do any of the manly things well and can't attract anyone not due to my looks but rather my immense social clumsiness. I'm absolutely terrible with money and have poor impulse control. As I mentioned I cry a lot, I enjoy cute things more than I ever see most men expressing the sentiment, and I just kind of don't want to align myself with the traditional values of being a man in this society because they are largely built around dominating other people through violence, a notion I find abhorrent. As such, I feel I have no real way to prove my worth, and assume people look down on me as something lesser. Not a real man™, certainly not by the usual measures of sexual conquests or money or social status. I'm crippled by social anxiety and the social problems being AuDHD bring me.

There's also the bit about patriarchal thinking pervading society, even among women and children. I remember a time I was playing barbies with a female friend at age 7 or so, and when I got home my older brother was making fun of me, I said something to the effect of "If I see another barbie I'll throw it across the grand canyon" and the next time we met my friend still wanted to play, and I told her that, and I threw it when she gave it to me, and broke it. I think the friendship soured after that. It taught me that even my own family would harm me emotionally if I didn't conform properly, and I never felt like I conformed properly as a person or a man. So anger was met with scorn, but not derision. Crying? Sensitivity? People get weird. As such I feel it's made me have an aggressive affect that keeps people away that I cultivated to deal with bullies growing up, and I don't like that this seems to scare people. A man who scares women isn't going to have a lot of luck dating. I also can't stand the notion of anyone being scared of me due to the RSD. So that hurts. I'm not a violent person (unless you count thoughts about myself) and I long to be a source of safety and comfort to someone, not a source of anxiety and fear.

Most of all "something missing within" is definitely something I feel. I try my best to be nice to people, to work hard, to present myself as someone who's not dying inside of loneliness, but I feel hollow. I don't think finding a partner would heal me; on the contrary, I'm made to feel that if I don't heal first, or at least suck it up like a man, I'll never find anyone, because I don't deserve one then. The widespread sentiment that "everyone is worthy of love" runs smack into the face of the criteria people use to choose friends and lovers, and proscribe behaviors that make it more difficult for queer and neurodivergent folk to properly integrate.

I feel like the social conditioning men go through makes us less able to feel and perceive love, not just express it. For me, surely my depression and muted positive emotions are partially to blame, but I feel it's more than that. We're driven into emotional deadness to make us better at powering through pain to make money, or crack the whip without remorse if we make it into the higher tiers of the social hierarchy. We come across genuine love and have no idea what to do with it, or even know what it is.

This book was something I needed to read when I read it. It's powerful stuff. It treats men not as the enemy but fellow victims of patriarchy, and it's true. I've always felt alone and I'm not sure how to fix it, but at least there's a book out there that articulates this pain. I think re-reading it will be just as helpful.

Hope you’re doing okay, comrade!