I was talking to a friend recently and he mentioned that as he was from a predominantly male family, and now raising two sons of his own, he was acutely aware of the toxic masculinity that has been such a big part of his life and upbringing. It did not feel comfortable or serve him to have such an unflinching tough-guy, “harden up” outlook on everything to do with his boys. 

Turned out it was more difficult than he initially thought it would be, he was surprised at the natural toxicity that often sprang to mind in various situations, but he was determined to stick with it. He remembered how that made him feel as a kid and did not want to pass those bad habits along.

My ex-husband is also from a predominantly male family. His family has some ingrained toxic masculine traits too. My son’s dad sees nothing wrong with his upbringing and fails to notice the various coping/avoidance patterns he and his brothers have. 

 Obviously, it is important (to me) that our son knows that is only one way of living and relating to the people you love, as he matures. Ever cognizant of what we are modeling, my default attitude is intuitive parenting, I am continually watching and working on the way I relate to those around me. Especially my son.

It’s given me a new perspective on how our generational family dynamic of predominantly male or female family members shapes our outlooks and attitudes toward ourselves and the opposite sex though. 

My mother was number three in a family of four girls, and she and her two older sisters had girls. I have a sister and our closest cousins were three girls and one boy. Point is, there was lots of female energy in my life as I was growing up. Holiday gatherings at my Nana and Grandad’s meant 8 females and 3 males. My grandmother was the family matriarch who was sweet and kind and loving and practical and guided the family without question. Nobody messed with my 5’ 2” grandmother. Her Irish Catholic roots gave her a solid moral compass, a quick wit, the ability to call out injustice when she saw it, a backbone of steel, and a heart of gold. She has been my lifelong inspiration, even when I didn’t know it. 

My grandparent’s home was a haven for the family. I am blessed by great childhood memories with my cousins. I credit the general attitude amongst the women of our family for my “sister” mentality now. Sure, there were disagreements but they were discussed reasonably and solved quickly, and taking responsibility for yourself was encouraged. Stabbing each other in the back (or the front) with petty and vindictive behavior was not tolerated at my Nana’s house, and those ways of thinking were foreign to me until I was in high school. I did not understand the desire to tear each other down as women. I still struggle to comprehend such nasty behavior, I’m just better equipped to identify and avoid it these days. 

In our solo-parent home, my mother was without a doubt, to be obeyed and respected, she raised my sister and me to be contributing members of the household. We had a step stool in the kitchen so we could reach the counter to cook and do the dishes. She taught us how to change lightbulbs, a fuse in the fuse box, the washer on a faucet, how to paint kitchen cupboards, how to check the oil on your car, and iron skirts and pants. There was never any sense of needing a man for anything, so I grew up thinking one was not really necessary. 

She worked hard and although there were boyfriends along the way she did not remarry until we were out of the house. She would still be at work when we came home from school, and we knew from elementary school age to come home, lock the door and do our chores and homework. We knew to not answer the door if anyone knocked, not to play outside if she was not home, and not to tell anyone who called that our mother was not home or that we did not have a father. (Pretty standard Gen X stuff.)

The closest thing I had to a male role model was my grandfather. He wasn’t a warm and fuzzy kind of guy, he had a quick temper, which our mother inherited from him, and his sudden explosions used to scare me – he was never mad at anyone in person, it was usually something on the news, or the talk radio shows he would listen to on his old transistor radio as he worked in the garage, but those outbursts terrified me. I gravitated to my Nana, she was even-keeled, I never saw her angry or upset and she always had things I could do, make, or read. 

She respected her husband and took care of him, but she did not bow down to him. It was not an environment of “father knows best”.  Their relationship was more of a partnered companionship. So I was not familiar with an all-controlling, unquestioned male figurehead, and I know a family can thrive with a man and a woman acting as partners participating equally. 

This fact about my upbringing has shaped my entire view of men, and the belief that they should be just as accountable and responsible in a household as a woman. I will not bow down or defer automatically to one. Sure I’ll ask for advice, their thoughts, opinions, or help, because I view them as equal, but I fail to understand the “man on a pedestal” thing. 

Why, because they have a penis? 

Big deal, with a vagina, I can have as many of those as I want. And if the sex is unsatisfactory, I can please myself too. Because the sperm chases the egg ladies. It’s biology.  

In my 20s, I dated someone for 7 years whose family upbringing was the total opposite. His dad ruled the roost, and mom and kids did whatever they were told including participating in his messed up narcissistic ideas and notions. He was rude and disparaging. His general attitude was that his children each owed him at least $1M for, you know, being born. 

Luckily the guy was never very authentic or convincing, or he would have ended up the leader of a cult. He had that vibe. 

He did not like me. He was always making snide comments, insulting my thoughts or ideas. Or just ignoring me. All the while racking up our phone bill or having my boyfriend run him all over town in my car, never putting gas in it. He didn’t have a car and neither did his son. Anything that was mine in his mind belonged to him because I was his son’s partner and his son owed him. There were never any please or thank you’s, just arrogant entitlement.

The ex and his dad were also very passive-aggressive and played all sorts of mind games. Again, a way of relating I had previously been unfamiliar with. This often had the desired ability to completely shut me down for days at a time. 

Although, when you are the one on the receiving end of such behavior, you start to dig deep and investigate. As a result, you observe, change, adapt and evolve. They do not.

All valuable life lessons, but it sucked. And it was expensive. 

It took me an additional two and a half years to pay off every dollar of debt that I had been peer pressured into providing for them. (Although honestly, what sort of adult guilt trips his son into “convincing” his girlfriend that he needs her line of credit or to open some sort of account for him otherwise he will fail and it would be all their fault? – a crappy one, that’s who.)

It took a long time (due to my own warped sense of loyalty) but I realized this was not for me. He and his father had no qualms in sharing their disdain once I made the break. As if vindictively pointing out all my flaws would make me change my mind. 

But it was too late. I took my “too much, too stroppy, too outspoken, too stubborn, too loud, too energetic, too friendly, too strong, too stupid” ways away from them and never looked back. The ex-boyfriend in return took most of our furniture, stereo equipment, and the car (a new car) and left me literally sitting on the living room floor. That was when I realized possessions were just “stuff” and the world was full of “stuff”, it felt good to be free and broke, sitting on cushions on that living room floor. 

I enjoyed being “uncoupled”, I did whatever I wanted, and met a whole lot of like-minded people along the way. There are some amazing people out there if you just keep going. 

I traveled. I met the guy who would be my husband when I went to Colorado for a ski season, and we hit it off instantly. It was like hanging out with a  male version of myself. It was easy to be together and felt like the most natural thing in the world.

So this is what a partner is supposed to feel like, I remember thinking to myself. 

He was appreciative and empowering, it was the first time I had experienced unconditional love, and he just felt like home. You hear all these whimsical things about knowing you’ve found “the one”, and it turns out they’re true. Things flowed and nothing was difficult, it was awesome, right up until it wasn’t.

Our marriage was an equal partnership for over a decade and a half, but then as our son grew, the dynamic shifted,  it was like I had forfeited any right to be “Bridget” anymore, and I was now “just” a wife and mother. 

Despite whoever you think you are in your 20s and 30s, eventually what you learned and saw modeled growing up is what becomes your dominant mindset if you just roll on autopilot. 

His own good time became the most important thing to him. His justification was that my job paid nothing (I worked part-time so as to look after our son) and he made all the money, so it was his right to go out and party with his friends. All night. 

It was just a phase I told myself. His mid-life crisis. 

Spoiler alert. It wasn’t a phase and now we are divorced. 

Sure it was scary and disappointing at times, but at the same time, it was incredibly empowering. Once I got past the resentment, anger, bitterness, grief, and darkness, and came to terms with the fact that he had effectively opted out of his marriage and family.

I realized I don’t need a man to complete me. I am complete all by myself.

What I want from a man is someone to go forward with in life. Side by side. Grow. Learn. Evolve. And if my partner doesn’t want to do that I’d rather be alone.

So the dust has settled and I’ve been dipping my toes in the dating pool. But I just can’t get past most men’s general attitude of entitlement that they should automatically be obeyed or pandered to. I’m sure there are decent guys out there, but I don’t think I have the stamina to find them. 

This isn’t a man-hating essay. I believe men and women are equal, like night and day, without one there can not be the other. 

But I’m a strong, capable woman. I know what I bring to the table. All I’m looking for is a strong capable man who knows himself and isn’t afraid of doing the work.

 Is that too much to ask?

I read (i.e. get click baited) a lot of random essays online about how difficult it is for men to find dates or start new relationships as adults after divorce.

I think what they really mean is how hard it is to find a woman willing to do everything for them; carry the mental load of the relationship, organize, shop, cook, decorate, and look good.  And they always miss the part where women generally only want to do that with a man who puts in as much effort as they do. It’s not that difficult. 

How about a little evolution fellas?

Learn, grow, and evolve. 

Women are so much more empowered these days. The blindfolds are finally off, the uptick in the popularity of divorce in the 80s raised a whole generation of girls who saw (like myself) that women are capable and do not “need a man” to validate them or their lives.

We have been able to validate ourselves for years.

Unfortunately, the same generation of boys mostly saw their dads rush into other marriages or addictions. Thereby side-stepping doing the personal work in keeping up with the evolution of a lot of women. And does anybody actually know any adult men who do not drink themselves into oblivion at least once or twice a week? 

When two strong people genuinely love each other and work together they can change the world. And there are a number of men who think this too. The times they are a-changin’, but very slowly. 

Why is that so difficult or scary to comprehend? Like most things in life, what you get back is directly related to what you put in. Why, when most men think pretty highly of themselves, can they not see themselves as a vital half of a brilliant partnership?

Change is good, it’s what we are supposed to do.