Why Do You Hate Men?
He asked me, “Why do you hate men?”
The question took me off guard. I scanned through my mental rolodex of people I love. Many of the closest people in my life are men. My best friend is a man. I am raising two men whom I would live and die for. I’ve bonded with men: intellectually, emotionally, sexually, spiritually, platonically, intimately. I have a lot in common with men. I love men. Quite deeply.
He asked me, “Why do you hate men?”
You may not believe me when I tell you this, but the last year or so I have become disenchanted by the feminist movement in general. I feel like somewhat of a feminist outcast. I get criticism from both sides. I agree with most feminist goals and aspirations, but I felt my experience as a queer woman was not being represented or even understood. The feminist movement seemed like a movement for straight, cisgender, monogamous women, which I am not.
Feminist tactics which include sexual shaming and gender essentialism are negligent. When feminists penis-shame, they shame many of their trans sisters. They shame my sons. They shame real bodies. When they shame hetero-male sexuality, they shame my sexuality. When I heard women calling men perverts for desiring or even noticing women—I internalized that shame as a queer woman. Eventually, that shame runs deep enough that you begin to hate what you desire, and you hate that you desire that which you hate. However, for a queer woman, that hate isn’t just projected onto another gender. That hate becomes a part of you because you are the gender of which you desire and hate. It’s the pure hatred of what you are and what you want: woman.
He asked me, “Why do you hate men?”
Better questions would have been, “Why do you hate women? Why do you hate that which you desire? Why do you hate yourself for desiring that which you hate? Why do you continue down this spiraling staircase of hatred and self-loathing?” These would have been much more thoughtful and poignant questions for a queer woman like me.
He asked me, “Why do you hate men?”
The question sounds so silly to me. I sympathize with men. When women called men “gross,” “perverts,” and “disgusting.” They called me those things too. The LGBTQ+ community knows all too well we are “perverts,” “degenerates,” “amoral,” “gross,” and “disgusting.” In fact, our love and identity are so abhorrent to some that it provokes violence against our bodies.
Women, especially queer women, are in pain. We’ve been assaulted, beaten, dominated, exploited, stripped, manipulated, abused, cut, burned, stabbed, strangled, shot, neglected, raped, and left to die. God forbid we share in that pain with her! When will we show sympathy for women living in a world which hates, desires, fears, and loves them with such unbridled, reckless passion? There is a fine line between love and hate. It’s crippling. It’s frightening. It’s almost unbearable, but this is the burden placed on our shoulders. We must bare this burden together. Her pain is our pain. Queer pain is our pain. Trans pain is our pain. His pain is our pain. We must weep with those that weep if we are ever going to learn to love each other. Commiseration, love, and compassion are not finite resources.
He asked me, “Why do you hate men?”
God help us. I do not hate you. I love you. If I’m not loving you how you want to be loved, show me, help me. Set the example of how to love and I will follow. I believe in forgiveness more than justice. I believe in healing more than retribution. I believe in love more than anything else, even when I’m not perfect at it.
