Can someone please explain to me what all this Toxic Masculinity hoopla is about? I’ve always considered myself to be somewhere on the intelligence scale between Stephen Hawking and Albert Einstein. Well, except for a few minor details such as I suck at math and stuff. Every time I hear the term Toxic Masculinity I scratch my head, making my hair look exactly like Einstein’s—a notable similarity.
I for one, want a big strong man around to kill spiders and smoosh mice with a broom. Luckily my man is confident enough in his masculinity not to push me off the chair I’m standing on and screech until I do the deed.
My man is comfortable enough in his own skin to cry in sad movies one minute and chop enough wood for winter the next. Okay, maybe not the wood, but he does look great in his plaid flannel lumberjack shirt, axe over his shoulder, muscles flexing, stubble on his chin… he-hemmmmm… back to my point. He can chop the crap out of those stubborn rosebush roots when I literally can barely lift the axe.
My man is fearless, strong and brave. He doesn’t have to lift a pinkie as he drinks his tea in order to show his softer side. He’s enough of those things to show emotion, exhibit tenderness, change a diaper, oohh and aahh over a sunset or marvel at a spider web. By the same token, he doesn’t mind showing his brasher side by burping, farting, sweating, or lifting heavy furniture. In other words: He is what he is. He doesn’t care one wit about what the activists tell him he should be.
It’s true that men in general can be brutal. My man has a good 50 pounds over me, some of it actual muscle. He can haul stuff I can barely lift and I’m not going to complain. Let him be the brawn—like Steven, I’ll be the brain.
Speaking of scientists, it’s a scientific fact that women don’t want to marry men who make less money than they do. As women have moved up the pay scale, marriage rates have drastically dropped. That datum is a red flag to a culture where families are the backbone of society. Now don’t get your boxer shorts in a twist (panties are too feministic) because I’m not saying that men belong in the work place and women in the kitchen. I’m simply pointing out that as valuable as the feminist movement has been, the results are not all positive.
The bottom line is this: Stop telling people who and what they ought to be. Like the minister's cat, a man can be whatever he wants to be. Hard or soft, it doesn’t take a genius to know that respect and kindness are what makes a man great.
So to all the PC Police out there, but out on all this toxic nonsense or I’ll scratch your eyes out with my fingernails and cut you down to size with my razor-sharp tongue.