Dear Men,
You scare the hell out of me.
I'm trying to love you. You are, after all, rather beautiful, rather stunning with your pretty words and kindnesses, your songs and sounds and hands and smells, the way you taste to my tongue, feel against me, make me laugh my head off and want to peel back your defenses and slide in next to your soul.
Dear Men,
You scare the hell out of me.
I'm trying to love you.
You have lied to me, betrayed me, bruised my arms, abused your power, broke my heart, gave me away, took what you could, asked for more, found me wanting, left.
Dear Men,
Dear gentle brother, listening friend, broken father, lost partner, kind lover, man of God, I'm trying to love you but it's so hard. You're so dangerous. I'm tempted to write you off, lump you together. Baby, the bath water flew through the air but you wont sink into the ground.
Dear Men,
I'm holding on to your beauty like a drowning girl, by the skin of my teeth. I'm biting a little harder than I should. I'm tasting blood and it's not my own.
I'm so sorry.
4 comments:
I understand what you are writing. Don't stop.
Thank you. It's so good to know.
I write for all and I write for you. Your BLOG has moved me...
When I was a boy I came to America and people called me names because of the shape of my nose and the fullness of my lips and the color of my skin- nigger meant little to me until I met Martin Luther King Jr. and read about civil rights movement and all this great man accomplished for us all. I suffered these ugly things and yet I am not black. I am Indian.
When I was a teen, girls thought that being asked to a cup of coffee was synonymous with screwing. I guess because I have a penis and that's all penises want according to girls. Really all I wanted was to get to know them better and yet a coffee was too threatening to them. Eventually I just settled to not asking at all. I got to drink lots of good Italian coffee by myself. I was a coffee drinker then and not a potential rapist.
As a young man I surprise people at work. "So smart, so talented, so outgoing. He is not white but he can hang with us any time." I get called little man or little big man. In my country I am simply known as Imran and people are not surprised by my abilities. I simply am what I am.
I feel deeply sorry for the way things are going with you and your men folk. If told you all the stories of how women have treated me you might wonder if I cherish my wife and my darling daughter. And yet I do. More than any sour moment are they and before them there were many sorrows and disappointments. I have been blessed and despite the way that I have been prejudiced against for what I am on the outside I know that those things are not what I am. I hope that soon you will be blessed with peace- that you manage to overcome your trials and emerge as strong and as happy as the most blessed day you can remember.
Sounds to me like you have some good friends (are they really all women?). You have a daughter who lights your days. You are a published author. Your writing is sad but beautiful. I can imagine that you are a good storyteller. You have your family. We can always count on them. Strangely enough you have this BLOG. Small a thing it may be but you have a voice among millions that cannot even imagine it. I am sure there are many more.
I get the sense that those who respond to your BLOG wish to aid your suffering by applauding your successes. This is wonderful. In some ways they also encourage your sadness. Flattery can make victims of us too.
I am glad not all men are the same. I am glad not all women are the same. As I am not a nigger, nor a rapist nor some wonder from a foreign land nor am I your husband nor any other man who has hurt you. The story of the blind men and the elephant is brilliant. The moral is that perspective or focus determines our reality. What is your reality? That the men you know have broken you? Does this make me a bad man too? If even one man hurt you does this make all men worthy of your bite now? Is this about us? Is this about you? Is this my gender’s fault? Is this all your husband’s fault? Isn’t life too complex to peg on one thing?
Like the people who know you and write their messages I too am moved by your BLOG. I cannot help but wish the troubles of the world to vanish. But I would like to offer more than flattery and encouragement. I would like to offer a challenge: Try to imagine the whole thing not as a rope, nor a spear, nor great wall, nor a long hose. See instead the elephant. See your true self as separate from the elephant. And more importantly see your Self.
In the East we have a saying: When the pupil is ready, the master will come. This has helped me to see my way by preparing my spirit with perseverance, prudence and inner strength. I know that troubles are not the fabric of life. Job from the Jewish texts is an inspiration to me. If you humble yourself to God he will show you the way.
Best wishes --- Imran
Imran,
Thank you so much for your thoughtful response. I truly appreciate it.
No, men are not worthy of my "bite". I know this, completely, and that is why it is a struggle and not a defeat.
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