I stood there vigilantly watching her well sculpted figure, afraid to breathe so as not to distract or draw her attention. She moved and her crescent shaped they inclined slightly as she saw me staring at her hungrily.
After so many happy endings that never came, I was ready for another ride on the roller coaster of love. You see, it seemed as if it was cool for everyone to be in a relationship but not me, so I took matters into my own hands and ended up with her a woman 4 years older than me. It was already decided in my mind that even if she was not, I was going to make her the one.
Now before you start rolling your eyes like I just told you that my mother is a nun, please hear me out. See I was a confused teenager, heading nowhere very fast and the thought of adulthood kinda forced me into many efforts of building the kind of life that was expected of me. Six years down the line, I have changed in so many ways than I never thought I would. It had never really Dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, I simply wasn’t paying attention to ME.
Society created us and Culture nurtured this confusion, leaving us thinking that someone else who lives outside of us has the right to judge and tell us how to behave as African beings yet alone males. You see, I grew up with this misguided mentality, it had been drilled in me at a very tender age that I cannot and should not cry, that crying automatically translated to a “you’re are weak” sign and that to some extent this has birthed a generation of men who equate emotions with weakness. Isn’t it crazy how men often seek to understand everyone and everything around them except themselves?
No, I was not suffering from Depression. What I mean is, Depression is a white man’s disease right? I couldn’t go for counseling because really, that was just for black kids trying to be white. I was struggling to deal with my emotions head on, so why would I want someone else to come into that space of mine I hardly tread upon.
Society has not really nurtured a space for men to express their emotions, we are expected to be some kind of superheroes with indestructible strength.
Culture created us, society nurtured this confusion, leaving our sisters with this preconceived notion that men simply do not have feelings, and as a result we don’t want to seem ‘emasculated’ for caring about someone .The only time we prioritize our emotions is when we are trying to hide them.
People have always loved and celebrated man who hide behind their superhero masks and suffer silently. Our own mothers trained us to suffer gracefully as they claim that is what it means to be a true African man, but then who has the right to define what it means to be me?
Photo Credit : Rob Evans
