Woman Seeking Man

For the past few months, I've felt prompted to study up on what it means to be a man.  It seemed like a strange topic to study up on, but it was so interesting that I couldn't set it aside. 
Was it because I am raising a little man?

I didn't know.  I just kept studying, kept reading, absorbing every word, usurping every ideal.
Yesterday I sat in front of my computer screen and met online with a counselor who said simply said:
"You need a man, Alicia.  You need a man man."

During my week break, I asked my Dad -who is aware of our situation -to come and give me a blessing before my husband came home.  He was more than happy to oblige.  I had to update him on our situation, and he said, "You need to look around and see if there's anyone else out there who could measure up to what you've got."

I want to scream, "NO!  No there isn't!"
But the truth is that there IS someone out there who won't try to manipulate, who won't push back when I stand up for myself, who will teach my son exactly what it means to be a man, who will unplug and take time to do these things.  Absolutely, there is.

The road in front of us is a rough, hard road.
"Are you willing to take it?  Is it going to be worth it?" the counselor asked.

These kinds of questions make me squirm.  They feel like bitter pills... medicine -I need to take them to get well, but the side effects?  oh, they bring me down: depression.

I need a MAN man.

There are times when I see a MAN man in the man I married.  My last counseling session was a week ago.  I spent three days afterward in a down sort of mood (pills, pills, emotional pills!), and then I came down with a head cold.  All the while, I wasn't sleeping through the night.  Add that all up and what do you get?  A deliriously messy house.
I'm serious. 
Through it all, I hadn't had any empathy.  I had been manipulated and I had had to set a new boundary which only added to my worn-out state.

Yesterday, I was still feeling the effects of my cold.  My body was aching, my head was foggy.  My husband came home and turned the news on.  What was going on in Boston was of the utmost interest to him (as a cop), but the spirit it brought into our already spirit-starved home was more than I wanted to play with.  I left the house and picked up my daughter from a birthday party.  It didn't take me long to realize I didn't want to go home.  So?  I didn't.  I only stopped in long enough to tell my husband that I was taking the kids west of town to our family land.
It's my Holy Places place.

He hopped in the car with us, leaving the news still on in the background of our messy house.

As the sun set, we skipped rocks into a great and spacious puddle.  The kids blew bubbles and we clucked our tongue at my Dad's old horse.  We had a stare-off with the cattle, we hid in the tall bushes, we watched my grandpa and his brother walking the fields out in the distance.
My husband became impatient to leave.
I was in no hurry to get back home.  I knew what awaited me there.
I wanted fresh air, I wanted to breathe, I wanted to watch my kids play in the same dirt I did as a toddler.

When we pulled into the driveway, I didn't budge.  I had driven home as slowly as I could get away with.  In my car, there was the soundtrack to The Man from Snowy River playing.  There was the last shreds of a beautiful desert sunset, there was peace. 
My husband placed a warm hand on top of mine.
"What is it?" He asked.  There was genuine empathy in his voice, and it brought me near to tears.
"I'm sick, I haven't been sleeping, and I really don't want to face the house," I said.
"Okay," he didn't move his hand from mine, "Get a chair, get a book, and spend some time alone outside while the sun sets.  Let me take care of the house."

I really needed that.  I REALLY needed that. 

I know what I need now.  I wrote down a list of what I need as a woman, and essentially what that list entails is one simple truth:

I NEED A MAN.

Last night, I had a man man.  So my answer to those hard, pillish questions is -as of today -yes.  yes, this is worth it.  I hate that the answer to that question fluctuates.
But I'm so grateful for my loving Father in Heaven who has taken me by the hand -whose Spirit is constantly at my side no matter what my home feels like.  There are angels on my right and left, bearing me up.
I know it.
I can feel it.
Their presence is tangible.

God will not leave me helpless, hopeless, or alone.

My Father in Heaven is a MAN.

Man: noun

  

via etsy.com

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a man.

I'm not a man, nor am I currently undergoing gender confusion.  I'm just working to define what it means to be a man.
I don't know WHY exactly.  Sometimes I think the Lord leads us on journeys we don't understand the purpose of.  He uses the Spirit to point things out, we use our hearts to listen... and in the end we use what we've learned for good.
For some reason, right now the Lord wants me to know about men.

Maybe it's because I have a son and I'm missing the mark with him.
I don't know.
And frankly, I don't care much WHY I'm learning about men.  The journey has been rewarding and enriching.
I recently read an article on wikipedia about Gene Kelly.  I found a quote near the end that has stuck with me ever since.  It has helped to change my definition of manhood.

"Unfortunately people confuse gracefulness with softness. John Wayne is a graceful man and so are some of the great ball players...but, of course, they don't run the risk of being called sissies." ~Gene Kelly

When my husband and I were first married, we got some free passes to the local movie theater.  We used them to watch "The Notebook."  We were both in a really silly mood -we were more interested in poking and tickling the other than we were about what was going on during the movie.
We laughed at the cheesiness of it all, and after it was over we both agreed that it was a terrible movie.  Women the nation over were obsessed with the movie, and I never understood it.  I avoided anything Nicholas Sparksy for years.

A few months ago, a friend of mine loaned me a movie.  It was a movie based on a Nicholas Sparks novel.  I decided to watch it.  Maybe I was being stupid and too quick to judge Nicky Sparks.  I decided to give him another chance.  So I watched, "The Lucky One."

via innocentdaydreamer.wordpress.com

aaaand I hated it.

I hate movies like that!  I hate Twilight!  Want to know why?  Porn is why!  Women watch those movies!  They watch the movies where the "man" is a VAMPIRE (for heck's sake) who glitters and understands and says all the right things!  They romanticize the idea of a man in a woman's room watching her sleep (hello, scary) and "The Lucky One" only validated me.
It's about a soldier who has done three tours in Iraq.  He comes home with PTSD (understandably) and a picture of a woman he found on the ground.  He carried her picture everywhere and was never hurt (except for the PTSD, which apparently doesn't count?) so when he comes home, he goes in search of her.
He finds her.
He works for her.  His PTSD is suddenly gone (still confused about that).
He beats up a bad guy.
and he helps her son play his violin.  He plays the piano.  He GETS her and understands her and does everything right.

Okay.
I know a few men who have been to Iraq three times.  They aren't sensitive men.  They're good men.  They're everything soldiers should be.
They are also imperfect.  They're rough and they don't always say the right thing at the right time.
None of them play the piano, but whatever.  That's beside the point...

My point is just this: so many women are watching these movies and then going home and smacking their husbands on the shoulder and saying, "Well why don't YOU ___________?" (fill in the blank with things like "play the piano and beat up bad guys without completely losing your temper OR cool?")

I'm not okay with it.  I'm not okay with it because I've put myself through the other end of it.
I've known that my husband looked at porn and wondered WHY I don't I _________?
Why don't I look like that?
Why don't I move like that?
Why don't I attract like that?
Ultimately: why don't I fulfill expectations like that?

It hurts to feel like less than enough.  I don't like to think anyone out there is going through it.

Maybe the Lord wants me to study up on Manhood because He knows that a true man is, in very fact, exactly like Edward Cullen.  Maybe I'm so set in my own ideas of Manhood that I'm refusing to open the door and believe that men can be baby-hungry chiseled cops/cowboys/firefighters who have a complete understanding of the working of the female brain.

All I know is that I recently read a blog post about "The Notebook" and it took me off guard.
What?  Someone whose opinion I trust actually watched it and liked it because it helped him (yes, HIM) see what he believed a man ought to be.
There it was again!  MAN.  What a man should be!
My curiosity was peaked, and I decided I was going to watch the movie I'd sworn off.  I kept teasing my husband about it, and it became an inside joke.
"Honey," he'd say, "Want to kill some zombies with me?" (the gaming kind, not the actual kind... just fyi)
"Sure!" I'd say, "And then we can watch The Notebook."
"Nevermind..."

Well he bought it for me for Valentine's Day because he knew it would make me laugh.
We watched it together for the second time in our marriage.

And my opinion changed.  I mean it REALLY changed.  Nicholas Sparks is redeemed (a little).
Because the main man in the movie actually really IS a man.  He's confident and flawed.  He loses his temper, and he works with his hands.  He develops his God-given talents and uses them.  He dreams.  He works to fulfill dreams.  He reads.
He falls in love.
He fights for love.  He fights with his love.  He tells her the truth.  He knows HER and he encourages her to dream, to develop her talents, to seek for happiness...
They fight together.  They love together.  They laugh together.

  

via fanpop.com

Noah, to me, is a good man and he's good at being a man.

A few days ago, I watched a John Wayne movie I hadn't seen.
Hondo.
That movie made me swoon so hard I nearly toppled over.  THAT hardly ever happens.  I'm not big on swooning.

Hondo, to me, is a good man and he's good at being a man.

And so my search continues.
I walk my days with the lines of Rudyard Kipling bouncing around in my head.

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling