I am legitimately scared of men | And that has shaped my whole life
Inside of me lives a little girl.
She is tightly locked away by conditioning and trauma. When I started to realize how stunted she was in emotional growth, and how much she runs the show by showing up as anger and anxiety, I tried to get in touch with her more.
I managed to let her dance a little with painting and music. I tempted her to smile with walks in the woods and laughter with friends. She comes out in spaces where all beings are allowed to be their most authentic selves.
But, she is terrified of men.
She is especially terrified of the ones, the intelligent alpha men, that turn the other parts of me on.
The fear equal to the desire.
For what are both of those if not big emotions?
This fear has caused the outside shell, that mask to be so polished, so perfect that it appears that she doesn’t exist. I have honed my left brain, my logical grown up self to emulate what I saw in those men. Logical, cool, intelligent. I can, and have, met them in the boardroom and in life. Rising to tops of classes and careers, I enjoy the same gilded cage of privilege they do.
When I entered the world of kink, feeling that there was something to it that resonated with me, I was told: “You aren’t submissive! You are a top, maybe a switch. But not submissive. No one can control you.”
And I lamented that they were right. That I wasn’t submissive enough. That the story of being too much or not enough was following me into another arena.
They were right, but not in the way I thought. Not in the labels - but in the control. I can’t be controlled. Rather, she can’t be controlled. She will, and has always, risen up when she feels threatened. When the logical side of me has lost my voice. Lost my voice because I’m afraid of losing the other person. Or of doing the “wrong” thing. Or for being blamed when they have gone too far.
So she, that little emotional me, has learned to step in before that happens. She has learned to step up and scream.
And it’s jarring. For everyone. Even me.
I crave control and logic as desperately as you do - as they do - the calm cool alpha men. But she is me and I am her, and I’ve realized how important she has been to my survival.
So why do I say all of this? Why don’t I keep my fear silent? Keep the mask on?
Because it’s only in my acceptance of her that I realize how much I’ve spent my life catering to this fear of men.
Yes, there are macro applications and analogies to this, but I can - maybe we all can - only see them in our limited micro scale. And I don’t believe that this fear is warranted of all men. I believe there are sensitive men hiding as much of themselves as I am hiding her, the emotional me.
And this feels important to excavate because, for me, sex happens in the submission. Release is obtained when it is wrestled from me. When it is overpowered and pulled away.
But how do I let go of my need for control to let her fly? To let her feel safe enough to cajole, to tease, to flirt, to giggle? To go down on her knees willingly and enthusiastically?
I think the lesson is that it is not going to be obtained by people “just” trying to take control. And it won’t happen until I learn to accept that she lives in me. Until I learn to find balance in myself.
For, if we take gender out of the equation, what if it is about matching the masculine (yang) and feminine (yin) energies inside of us first? And in that balance, perhaps that is where we can step forward to meet another person with our authentic selves. And in the meeting of equals, only then can we create power-based dynamics.
Perhaps it is only in the people who have acknowledged they have a sensitive, soft side, but it is their dominant side that feeds their primal nature. The opposite of me, who would then have to acknowledge my curated power side, but that my opposite-but-equal primal urges come from the submission.
Perhaps that is where my emotion-only little girl can find the safety to play. By recognizing in another person all of the work they have had to do to let all sides of themselves exist.
And on that macro view, perhaps it is the paradox of only when the privileged let go of the “power”, that the power truly is given to the ones who deserve it.
When we all, as any group of individuals, put our arms out and fall backwards out of the clouds of societal expectations and “shoulds”, and trust that whatever formation we are authentically will carry us through. That the wings of authenticity will catch us when we fall.
Where our “masculine” and “feminine” shows up, in whatever balance, knowing that gender isn’t always what we see. To be able to lean into where our dominance and submission may live, and that these may not follow along when you see on the surface - or that they might - and both are equally okay.
So, for now, I will continue to find my internal balance. To let my inner little girl, my emotions, dance with just me. To let her know that she is safe because I will protect her before I let anyone else take that responsibility. And I will strive to hear her before she gets to the point where she is screaming. And to trust that she will tell me when the authentic sides of the people in my life are a match - for her and for me. And that’s all she needs to open her wings and fly.
Cover Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash| Top Photo by Mathilde Langevin on Unsplash
