Kath Kolumna: A(MEN)
Men. I love men.
Love means for me that I classify myself as heterosexually oriented.
Love means to me that I admire men of the time.
Love means to me that throughout my life, I have fallen and will fall in love with people who are biologically assigned to the male gender.
Love means to me that a loving father raised me.
Love means to me loving my brother.
Men. I hate men.
Hate I feel because they oppress.
Hate I feel because they abuse power.
Hate I feel because they resign.
Hate I feel because they don't try to learn.
Hate I feel because they do not allow themselves to be weak.
These emotions are strong, and my statements are sweeping, but I can't shake the feeling that it's not just my fault that I feel this way. I keep realizing that I'm not alone in fear of eventually not being able to let love in because hate conquers it.
At this point, I would like to point out the unbelievably exhausting but absolutely necessary journalistic work of those who compile figures, facts, studies, personal stories, etc., to prove how much injustice there is. And especially how everyone still suffers from the stigmatization of society's conception of gender.
People of any gender, any sexual orientation suffer from the demands they think they have to meet to be considered a "real" man/woman/other.
What is this topic doing in my column? My mind and knowledge are testing me, so I want to talk about it. I want to fall in love, I use dating apps, I try to go through life with open eyes and (sometimes) open heart, but over and over, I ask myself: can I ever truly accept, respect, and most importantly, can I ever trust a man?
My doubts are not a trauma. I have never been cheated on by the men I have let into my life. I have never been verbally or physically assaulted by someone I genuinely know. I just feel that the men I know also don't work hard as they could on themselves and their "masculinity" with the energy, self-reflection, and perseverance they have.
Especially since the same is often the case for women.
During our nightly walk, an acquaintance asked me, on which occasion I told him about this text, "what do you wish for from a man?". This simple question is probably the essential one. Because maybe it is wrong to think that one man has to satisfy all the desires I have, all the demands and needs. To answer the question of desire, I want a partner, a counterpart, a critic, educated and equally emotional, who is curious and self-confident. A man who is aware of the advantages of his sex, but also of the injustice of its privileges. A man who can love and accept me as well as himself.
Many evening walks in recent weeks have revealed to me that utopia lies not in the existence of such a man but in my desire. I will separate myself. Separate from the idea that a man can fulfill all this. Not out of spite, but out of the realization that I can love many men. Thank you, Tilda (Swinton)!
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