Over the past month, Huffington Post UK has been releasing blog posts by various authors titled "Building Modern Men." There are over 10 posts featured in the series, covering topics such as being a father, the qualities that make a man, men's mental health, and sensitivity. Each one is an opinion-based blog in which the author writes their views on what a modern man is, given different aspects of our contemporary world. The authors are not experts on gender studies or social sciences (except for one), but rather cover a wide variety of professions and perspectives. Although the posts seem to be focused in the United Kingdom, the topic of the modern man is increasingly important in Western society, as we're experiencing a major upheaval in the typical definition of “man,” and really, a major shift in human identity.
After reading some of the articles, I got back to thinking (it’s been a couple years) on what it really means to be a man. Now, I am very young in the grand scheme of life—only 22—so I can’t claim I have vast experience to support what I believe being a man is about; however, given my personal traits (both physical and mental,) and my still recent upbringing, I think what I have to say on the matter is still valid.
Anyone who knows me would never, ever look at me and think, “Yeah, he’s a man’s man,” because that would be horribly incorrect. I’m a mere 5-foot-7 and weigh a meek 130 pounds at my best. I grow my hair long because deep down I’m still a 16-year-old longing to be a rock star (not really, but damn, do I look beautiful). I’m a twig. I brood. I make it my purpose to “figure out the workings of the universe and human mind” (whatever the hell that even means), and simply put, I’m just not a picture of manliness.
However, I am known to drink copious amounts of liquor, box my friends, watch action movies, and listen to rock 'n' roll. I don’t frequently cry, I work long shifts doing manual labor, and I love me a beautiful woman. Am I a man yet? No. Those things do not make me a man; they’re just things that have, in the past, been associated with manliness.
Truth is, I think, yeah, doing stuff that is viewed as manly does contribute to your manliness, but by no means does it make you a man.
Growing up around hard dudes weighed on me heavily, especially with my physique being so slight. Almost all of my uncles were Marines, and one of the only ones I’m close with is about three of me wide at the shoulders; my own father works for a paramilitary organization which I decline to name, and is also a beefy dude with a heavy scowl and high-and-tight haircut. Both of them have worked hard their entire lives, grew up with an alcoholic father, are brawny, love man stuff, and just seethe manliness all around. So, until fairly recently, I didn’t consider myself a man at all—how could I?
Well, by learning. From my father I learned that being a man has little to do with the reasons I’ve given so far—those things just give you the picture of manliness. My dad taught me, over everything, being a man is about sacrificing, knowingly suffering a loss so someone you love can experiencing a gain, because doing what’s necessary for the better of your loved ones is what’s right. That’s the other big thing I got from him, that a man does his very best to do what’s right in the face of adversity. To keep it brief, the last thing I’ll mention from my father is that a man doesn’t necessarily fail; he either does not try enough, or he strategically cuts his losses, because if a man puts his mind to something, he does not fail.
The other person who taught me what it is to be a man is my boss—also a man’s man, go figure. He taught me that, yes, sometimes being a man includes the classical gimmick. When I wanted desperately to go home because it was only 20 degrees outside while we were tearing the innards of a building out with metal bars and no heat, and I was smashing my fingers left and right, cutting up my hands and arms, breathing in nasty dust through a mask, carrying heavy loads of wood and dry wall up three flights of stairs, and just all around dying, I didn’t go home; not because he pays me very well, not because I’m too tough for that, but because I learned that you just don’t go home until the job’s done or the day’s over. I was literally told that we could quit early, but that would mean shame, so we didn’t quit. We kept our heads down and plowed through week after miserable week of tedious, body-wrecking work, and damn, did we feel proud; because that’s something men do—they work hard and take pride in it because they didn’t stop when they wanted to.
Now, I want to add a couple of notes here. First off, these two mentioned men have taught me far more about life and “being a man” than I can list in an article. Second, I’ve portrayed them as “men’s men” because they are pictures of men’s men—they appear to be that. I’m not saying they’re not men, but I have to note that both of them have showed more true compassion, sensitivity, understanding, kindness, and love (in their own respective fashions) than anyone who has ever said to me, “It doesn’t matter if you’re a man,” or anything along those lines. They may not be soft and fuzzy dudes, given the amount of s*** I’ve taken from both, but they’ve easily shown the necessary soft sides of being a man, and that’s what makes them so. They combine the typical “manliness,” the things you see in movies and shows and read in books, with the necessary human, emotional elements of being a man. And that’s the most important part of being a man—toning down your purposely hard exterior for the benefit of a loved one, or stranger in need, or whatever situation calls for it.
Lastly, I want to make a point about gender. I use the pronoun “his” in this article because I speak of males due to my personal identity and the identities of those I’ve mentioned. That means when I generalize and say, “A man doesn’t quit because he wants to,” I’m saying it because I call reference to myself and the figures in my life. This is not to say, necessarily, that you need a dangle between your legs to be a man. Obviously, we live in a time where general concepts of things like “manliness” (hence the article) are being pushed, if not broken. So to say that a woman can’t show characteristics of a man is ridiculous. Your genitalia merely defines your biological gender—whether you’re physically a male or female—it does not define your principles, nor your character. I know women who are easily tougher than I am, who could pummel me into the ground without second thought. So, don’t think that being a man is a confined club that requires a secret penis code to get in: Being a man is a set of principles that are lived by in the most earnest fashion possible.
