Gendered Social Expectations, Internet Overreactions, and Such

Mea Culpa [Maybe]

So this evening, I popped off on Bluesky, as you may or may not have seen. For context, here’s where the story starts. I wanted to take a moment and figure out how to identify and articulate why that exchange set me off, as I really do think these conversations are worthwhile, and that these normative gender dynamics and expectations hurt all of us.

I sincerely hope this stream-of-consciousness reckoning makes some kind of sense; I felt the need to vomit it up as a reminder to myself of so many things I’d like to suck less at, and who knows? Maybe you’ll find something of quasi-coherence or value within. Here’s to hoping, and here goes nothing.

Confession Time

I experienced extensive abuse and trauma at the hands of men from early childhood on; for years and years, I couldn’t process the concept of men as fully human, or really even capable of emotion. It wasn’t hatred. I simply did not understand that a man could be anything but brutal and devoid of any feeling whatsoever. For many years, I misread sincere signs of concern from men as proof of ulterior motives that justified, in a manner of speaking, destroying them for kicks.

Thank God (and I actually mean that, despite how mad it made me at the time) - one day I had this painful and shameful epiphany. Here’s what I had been doing: living my entire life in reaction to what had been done to me. And that wasn’t any abuser’s fault. That. Was. My. Failing. That unbelievably shitty behavior was… whose fault? Mine. And mine alone. Who did it harm? Not just the men around me to whom I passed on all that pain, but I robbed myself out of love for half of humanity. How freaking infantile.

Sure, my cruelties (I think it’s fair to term my behavior back then as such) was a reaction to experiential reality, but part of growth as a person means the horrifying experience of looking in the mirror and facing what terrifies and disgusts you - so that you can try and rise above all that mess.

It sucks ass. It is not fun. It hurts. It’s embarrassing. It’s really tempting to demand someone else take the responsibility, so you don’t have to watch just how much you’ve begun to perpetuate cruelty. No one wants to admit that or really confront that side of themselves. I sure didn’t. And I don’t exactly enjoy publicly owning my own crappy, reactionary, hurtful behavior. This is not fair. Nothing will ever make it fair. It sure as fuck ain’t fair, and even more, that there’s no possible way to make it fair. But it’s the truth. No one can do that work for you.

I think what set me off was the fact that social norms expect women to do the healing work for men, and it’s just another shit reality here that men happen to hold the vast majority of that social power. And sometimes, I do perceive certain assumptions (what I see as projections, fair or not) about whose gendered job it is to fix social norms as irritating because… Women do not get to expect a cookie for learning to cope with what this world does to us. And men should not either.

Let me be blunt: I have way more respect for men (now) than to expect they’re incapable of recognizing these same things. And I worked very, very hard on developing the strength to admit I was punishing half the world for shit they did not do, and that only took place through the isolating hellscape of self-examination (as a woman who does not have the luxury of social control, which - again - absolutely SUCKED). The responsibility to recognize those behaviors, to take accountability for them, strive to change them, atone if you ever are able, and maybe - just maybe - recover from their origin point? That’s on you, regardless of gender.

Alpha, Omega, The End.

You aren’t responsible for what was done to you.

But you are responsible for not passing that on to anyone else.

Postscript

If I overreacted or unfairly flipped out, I’d love to blame that on lack of sleep. But it would be immature of me to use that excuse. I know better, and I need to do better. I’m trying, and I’m failing, so I’ll try and fail and try again. Thank you for the patience.

Good night, and may we all be well, and perhaps one day, even – better.