When I was two, my parents divorced. My mother received custody of me and my brother, making us a single-parent home. Mom became the woman and man of the house, and dad an every-other-week presence with an ill-defined sexual role.
I learned little about being a man from my mother’s hermaphroditic parenting outside of the inference that if mom could take on both roles, men and women are probably pretty much the same thing excepting some anatomical differences.
Most other notions about what a man was came from TV. BA Baracus and Hannibal from the A-Team and Magnum PI seemed like real men. They got shit done. They drove fast, bedded women, solved problems and fired cabbages at bad guys. Unfortunately, they provided no instruction. For that, I just had mom.
If you want to guarantee a boy never becomes a man, hold up a woman trying to be a man as a role model. You don’t make the boy a man. You make him a wuss. Continue reading “Are You a Wuss?”