A man’s ballsack is the perfect encapsulation of the incredibly sad irony that is conventional masculinity — it’s painfully sensitive, weak, and very easily crushed.
Today, there are some fascinating characteristics ingrained in the typical male psyche. Along with a genetically inherent conversation-list comprising of how many women we can bang, and who’s wrestling on TV tonight, masculinity includes a ‘confident’ male strut comprised of a straight back, stiff neck, rigid arms, and a slight bounce in step. For men, it’s simple. It’s inherent that all of us defy the way our bodies naturally move so that we can show how tough we are by walking as if we have large sticks up our rear-ends.
Now, here’s a shocker: we’re creative beings, we have emotions, we construct fiction. And that’s simply what being a bro is — a sadly constructed visage of sensitivity disguised as a 12-inch dick.
Thankfully, I consciously don’t subscribe to conventional masculinity, other than maybe in some of the clothes I wear. I wouldn’t classify myself as feminine either. I’m not a ‘hipster.’ Maybe I’m a little geeky. But I prefer to label my culture as ‘Adam;’ in other words, I don’t really fit anywhere, and I’m pretty satisfied with this.
However, because I don’t act in every usual sense a ‘bro,’ people react incredibly sensitively. Other men seem helplessly confused by me, especially those who adamantly classify themselves as your typical ‘dude,’ or who are otherwise simply struggling to understand the meaning of masculinity in general, much less their own.
He even adjusts his physical posture to uphold the self-assurance that he’s ‘not gay.’
Sadly, bros often label my masculinity as ‘not quite right,’ a phrase which they usually equate to ‘not manly enough,’ ‘just weird,’ or ‘he’s not like me so he must be gay!’ Ironically, while they judge, they’re the ones who frantically sweat bullets to maintain their own appearances. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t say I’m holier than thou, as in the past I’ve sadly judged other men in the same manner (and felt horrible about it afterwards).
Though I’m ashamed to relay it, during a ‘bro’ conversation, I’m typically given a borderline objectification about a “hot chick” within the first five minutes. If I actively agree with these lovely pleasantries, then both us dudes can breathe a sigh of relief and the conversation can continue comfortably (with frequent comments on how hot we find lesbian porn of course).
However, if I don’t readily engage, then I’ve simply crossed a line that no proper man dares to cross. Eye-contact is immediately averted, feet shift uncomfortably, the topic is desperately changed to something more ‘masculine’ so the uncomfortable party can feel better about himself. He even adjusts his physical posture to uphold the self-assurance that he’s ‘not gay’ — because for some reason sexuality is brought into the picture.
This is when I realize that men are so easily infringed upon; masculinity is incredibly fragile, and so horribly grounded in homophobia that it’s laughable.
Men, I’m sorry you exhaust yourselves being terrified of societal pressure, but I’m tired of how you all mindlessly act the same; how most of you don’t even realize how ridiculous this is, or maybe you’re simply afraid to. Drop the prosthetics and grow a real pair of balls; be open-minded, accepting, treat women with respect, treat people with respect, try to embrace your intelligence and emotions, talk to a man who doesn’t fit your stereotype, and do so without feeling as if your brittle masculine shell will shatter to bits if someone sees you.
But of course you don’t want to read any of this, so I’ll conclude this article in your favour. Remember: to express your masculinity in any unconventional way is unequivocally wrong. You won’t be successful, you won’t find a relationship. Don’t leave your house without flipping your cap backwards, securing your jeans below your ass, and making plans with the boys tonight to drink so much Pabst that you give yourself and the next guy alcohol poisoning. After all, that’s obviously what men do!
Me? As the confident man I am, I’ll be gladly marathoning Orange is the New Black, while chugging back a double long-island ice tea with an extra slice of lemon. Thanks!
