What men really need to know….
I woke up this morning feeling fresh like a daisy flower. I had no reason to, my sleep pattern is quite heavy, my partner and I do snore like lumberjacks and I am having my periods for the first time in months. I wasn’t flawless, my flow is very much there right now. But I woke up feeling quite happy and content about myself. I’m happy to be in a cosy and safe environment during a pandemic with the cutest tabby in town, purring in between our sheets. I am fully aware that I’m doing okay in comparison to many people out there. So, what better way to get the day starting by going through my Facebook timeline while having my breakfast, right? I mean, scrolling through the said timeline and read stuff that has been posted by my friends (including this brilliant article from the New Republic about the Spartan myth being “cancer”), the stoner/sludge/doom metal webzines I follow and articles from The Guardian.
You see, I could be considered as a lefty snowflake because I like to read The Guardian and you may be right, except that I am also pro-environmentalist, anti-racist and a proud feminist who believes in intersectionality. And this is why my feminist butt ended up reading this testimonial. This post is called “My life in sex: the man with a small penis” and has been written by an anonymous person who, you have guessed, has a below-average ding-dong. I read the post with attention because if someone took the time to write something, I can take my time to read it and learn from it. What I learned from this article, is that toxic masculinity is a thing that just refuses to go away. Yes, I said it!
Toxic masculinity. That is exactly what this article is all about, because the anon testimony reflects his/their addiction to pornography, his/their low self-esteem and his/their visceral fear of intimacy due to the aforementioned size of the penis. When I had the brilliant idea of posing my two cents in the comments, this is how the people responded, I did not include the many laughing emojis.
“am disagree. Women now a days (sic) prefer big they not really care about does the person really know how to use it”
“it’s about the size. that’s the same as when fat people say ‘it’s the personality that counts’”
“size matters”
“them chicks love a big weapon up the dirt box”
“ask that women (sic) to message me, i will sorted out for you”
“mine is 12 inch”
“the average penis size is 4 inches. if you expect more, that’s your fault”
“don’t mind the body, but mind the engine”
“my penis is above average”
“why does he want to have a vasectomy if he’s never likely to have sex?”
The level in cringe right here is huge. This is Chrissy Teigen level of cringe face. All the comments I put above were coming from men. That’s right: MEN MOCKING OTHER MEN BECAUSE OF THEIR TRALALAS! I’m sorry but lads, this is serious. How is this normal? It’s 2020, for crying out loud, we literally have no time for pissing contests. Why are pissing contests still a thing? Why do you care so much about your peckers? Why do you bother so much about how females are going to react to the unholy sight of your schlong? Because we don’t. We honestly DON’T care about it. Women don’t have the patience or the willingness to use their spare time doing Excel charts about your precious willies when we can use them in doing everything we want to do with our bodies and souls. So, when you see or hear a girl telling you that size doesn’t matter, it’s because IT REALLY DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER TO US!!!
That’s why I came to the difficult but honest conclusion that… we need to talk! DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN!
Lads, dudes, gentlemen, please listen to me.
I am your friend, okay. Always have, always will. I was the one who was always playing tag with you in pre-school. I was the one who watched the same non-girly cartoons as you. I played football and rugby with you in primary school. One time, I even fought with you and broke one of your tooth in seventh grade (You fucking deserved it, Dahmane!). I hung out at the skate park with you listening to Lostprophets — it was a different time, okay, don’t judge me! — and I remained to this day the only girl you could talk about your testosterone-induced questions, frustrations and insecurities because I know how to talk to you and how you react to things. I was an outcast by only tagging along guys until I was 16 and met my ride-or-die BFL (beeyotch for life, it’s stronger than BFFs). I have been here for you anytime you needed a hand or a shoulder, even when you dated girls I couldn’t stand, I was there. I will always be there for you, you know that. Never forget that my intentions are coming from a good place and please, don’t get mad, just listen to me.
Okay… THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?
Have evolution gone so badly that you think that everything and everyone has become a threat to your sweet manhood? Let me tell you this, your heat-seeking moisture missile is irrelevant. Always has, always will.
No sexcalibur will ever matter in life. The size of your phallus has never equated how good you were in maths or P.E. classes just like the shape of your sausage will never be a synonym of wealth and success. Unless you are a porn actor. Are you a porn actor? Are you one of the many men who work in the sex industry whether as a performer or a director? Do you get paid for sex? Are you a sex worker? Would you consider being a sex worker if your beaver basher was a little larger? Do you know any sex worker? Have you ever interacted in real life with anyone involved in that industry? I don’t think so. At best, you watch porn. At worst, you have an addiction to pornography that is blurring your reality, just like any addiction per se. There is nothing wrong with watching pornography; it is a form of cinematography that uses fantasies to create a universe where everything is sexually possible. Like any cinema, you have good and bad porn. The most important thing to remember is that pornographic cinema is… cinema. It’s an art, it’s a fiction, it doesn’t exist in real life. Because in real life, the guy who comes to repair your printer would come to your house/office, check the printer, open the printer, check the paper jam, change the toners, close the printer, give you a quick explanation into why the printer broke down, give you the bill, say thank you and go by wishing you a “very nice day”. No ludicrous moves, no moaning and, I’m assuming, no moustaches either. So, I don’t think you really need to compare yourselves to anyone with a massive danger noodle because even those who do won’t bother talking about it that much. You know how the saying goes… Those who know the least will always know it the loudest.
You don’t need to define yourself by your engine, unless the engine we talk about is your brain. Trust me, there’s nothing sexier than a man who thinks by himself and respect one another.
Another thing you need to know, hombres, is that you are a human being before anything. You are allowed to feel things, you know. It’s okay for a man to cry if he feels like, it’s okay to not have the greatest self-esteem and every worry you might have concerning your virility are valid. In fact, did you know that for a very long time, the colour pink was attributed to boys, as it is a lighter version of red? You can read about it here, because I’m a good person. Liking pink doesn’t always mean you will turn yourself into a sissy, and if you do, it’s just as fine because colours belong to everyone, even to queers.
Being a man doesn’t mean you have to follow bad advice from pop culture (Entourage, How I Met Your Mother, every season of the Bachelor, self-help books and blogs, etc…), the lads’ culture or in some extreme cases, the Internet. The Guardian article author mentioned he “gravitated towards incel groups, but I soon realised that their ideology is toxic”. If you have been in the internet for the past decade, you must have heard about the involuntary celibate community and how some of their members went as far as mass murder to make their point being known: women are disgusting, shallow wenches because they refuse to have sex with us, even though, we are the good guys, honest! In their twisted world, you have only two ways of being a man. Two and that’s it. So, you can be an alpha male (a Chad or a Tyrone, its Black equivalent) with a chiselled jawline, have the six pack of a Spartan and be a popular jock at school/trader in the Stock Exchange. If you’re not an alpha male, then you are a beta male and that’s bad. It means that somehow your genes got corrupted and turned you into an ugly duckling with a pre-disposition of being a all-too-nice-too-dumb fatty cuck who will never get laid because, obviously, the chicks only like bad boys and athletes, plus the feminazis want to eradicate all men because they hate them all. I’m not making this up, I just used my “incel bingo” found on Instagram. If you think that all I said here was preposterous, then congratulations, you are a decent human being. Otherwise, I can’t really help you. You can listen to what women and feminists have to say but we can’t fix you, only you and therapy can fix you because there are some profound self-hatred issues that need to be addressed.
Nobody has to choose what kind of men one has to be.
You know why?
Because there are thousands of ways to be a man and each man can be his own. Anyone who tried to teach you one textbook idea of being a man is a man who needs to step aside and shut the fuck up, because no textbook idea of a man will ever make up for the diversity that is out there. I mean, sure, we hear a lot about one category of men and they tend to have the power and the money but they are not all of them. None of them looks like my uncles, my best friend or even my colleagues. Does it mean that my uncle, my best friend and my colleagues all combined are not the “right kind” of men? Or that they are not “man enough”? Or they can be men enough on the condition they have a joystick the size of a steamboat? I can tell you for a fact that I have only seen my best friend’s trouser snake and I know he has man enough because he uses it for doing all the things you need to do with a wang and sometimes, he gets to use it with his partner and knows that consent is sexy. That makes him a man. A man who doesn’t have intimate relationships is man enough. A man who has multiple partners is man enough — although I have a serious issue with the idea of “banging chicks for the sake of banging” and adultery. A man who flirts a lot is man enough. A man who doesn’t go out is man enough. A man who loves men is man enough. A transgender person transitioning into a man of his own is man enough. An infertile man is man enough. A father of six is man enough. You get my point. Men are man enough.
Please guys, change the narrative among yourselves.
Don’t make everything a challenge about your fire hoses. It doesn’t matter. The world is not going to stop turning because you are not happy about your spawn hammer. If this is really bothering you, I would suggest you to speak to a professional before considering a vasectomy or a surgical enlargement. These medical procedures are both very expensive and very painful and only the brave can go through this unscathed. No rightful dinguses deserve to be butchered in the name of vanity. So, it is my duty as a feminist to tell you to stop being so obsessed with your love whistle. You are so much more that just a walking stiffy. You are a fucking human being. Simple as that, just a human being.
I think it is high time you start communicating with one another, that you address the real issues of misogyny, homophobia and mental illness all together. I think you need to start reflecting on how your collective actions ended up having dramatic consequences for anyone that isn’t a white cis-gender middle-class straight male. I think you need to learn more from one another about how to be a better man without having to harm another man in the process. I think you have to reevaluate how you view your mothers, sisters, wives and daughters as being just like the other women and girls who once rejected you. I think you need to realise that nothing is due to you because of how you were born or raised. I think you need to admit that Gordon Gekko is in no way a man you should set an an example and that pick-up artists are bullshitters trying to scam you, even you Barney Stinson. I think you need to be more patient with yourselves because one day, there will be someone who will accept you just as you are and it will be genuine and it doesn’t have to be a woman, it could be anyone. I think that if men were being more honest with themselves, they wouldn’t have to resort so much into short-term solutions to complex issues.
All in all, what I truly mean is that I think you really, really, really, REALLY need to stop acting like a dick. For real.
