Being Honest With Fiction

And if there is no way out, then there is no way out.
And, so?
What do we do now?
We have to either make due with what we have or we have to learn to adapt and to adjust.

I saw something this morning on social media, which I found brilliant enough to reshare on my own page as well.
The post read as follows.
“Healing means you stop romanticizing what hurt you.”

Is this something that a real man would connect with?
And so, what does this make me?

I remember my earlier lessons about manhood or what I assumed it meant to be a man. At the same time, I had no clue what it means to be a real man.
And when I say what it means to be a man; I mean a real man, which has less to do with physical dominance and strength and more to do with dignity and poise.
This has more to do with the honor and the glory of what it means to stand on your own without looking to supplement yourself or put on a show.

I think manhood has less to do with being tough and more to do with being comfortable with yourself.
And I never saw it this way.
At my youngest, I assumed real men drank beer and they ate all their food.
I assumed the rules were as follows”
Never complain and never explain.
Work hard.
Play harder.
Never let anyone see you sweat or sense your vulnerability.
Real men are not supposed to be weak.

Real men have answers. They know what to do.
Real men are good in a pinch and so, when the shit hits the fan, real men know how to step up and face anything the world throws at them.

Perhaps some of this is true.
Maybe.
Maybe none of this is true.
But a real man is true, regardless of his weaknesses, and regardless of his looks, and regardless of his ability to navigate through troubled waters, and of course, a real man is the man who can be honest with himself, as well as others.

A smart man knows what he doesn’t know.
Some people might need to read that again.
But know-it-alls act as if they have something to prove.
Real men do not have to prove anything to anyone.

I used to think that I was too weak.
I was too poor.
I was too awkward to be a real man.
I swore that I was too small or too incapable, too stupid, and ugly to be wanted or desired.

So?
If this is the best I could be, then what else could I do?
I made myself change into some kind of desirable format. I projected. I lied.
I embellished and exaggerated.
I acted the part, but at the same time, nothing in the world is more obvious than false bravado and people who talk shit!

I tried to transform myself from “no one” into “someone.”
I wanted to be the hero and of course because no one wants to be “the zero!”
At best, my worries and my thoughts tricked me into believing that I was always subpar.
There was always something “off” about me.
Was this due to certain violations and early trauma?
I am sure there are doctors and therapists who suggest this. Of course.
Was this due to being beaten or bullied?
Was this because I was used?
Was this because I never had true friends?
Was this because I was violated in my childhood?
Or is this far more common and normal and somehow, we seem to dehumanize the fact that feelings and emotions are not real and not all feelings are facts.
But they are all normal, everyday, and real.

It has become more apparent to me that yes, real men have feelings.
Real men cry.
Real men are not afraid that their vulnerabilities appear like some kind of military weakness.

Real men are not afraid to admit when they don’t know the answer.
Real men do not have to make excuses.
Real men do not need to put other people down just so they can stand on someone’s head and feel above or better than.

A real man is a man who is not afraid to be tender or show kindness.
A real man knows how and when to be gentle.
A real man is not afraid to laugh or cry or show his smile or his sadness.
A real man does not need to dress up in a disguise or wear a mask or hide himself behind an image.
A real man does not need to cultivate relationships to prove that he is wanted.
A real man does not need extra attention.
And as far as love goes, I admit that my previous understanding of the word manhood was far and poor.

When it comes to love . . .
A real man shows his true self.
A real man loves with all he has.
A real man does not compromise this.
A real man opens the door and makes sure his love comes first because without his true love, a real man is otherwise loveless or empty or worse; this is what it means to be void where it counts the most.

I had a conversation with the stars last night.
(AKA: a moment of conscious contact between myself and The Father.)

I plead my case.
I confessed my mistakes and I offered no excuses.
I had a talk with the stars last night and wished on each of them, a trillion times, and who knows . . .
Maybe the stars will align and when they do, I will have the chance to show what I’ve learned about what it means to be a man. . .I will be hers.
She will be mine.
And if there is no way out, then I will adapt and stand true to my convictions –
I don;t need to prove myself to anyone else
(except for me)
And the work has already been done . . .
. . . it’s just insecurity that keeps me confused.