He Is The Victim

She has been told that it is her fault,
that she dressed inappropriately,
that she walked down the wrong street,
that she shouldn't have had that drink,
that she asked for it.
But she won't hear another word.
She knows that she is not to blame.
She was a victim long ago, but not now.
She has been set free; she is unashamed.
He is the real victim; he is sick.
He's a slave to his illness,
an illness called masculinity. 
He was too young to fight it when it started,
too unaware, too naive, too innocent,
to know that he was being infected.
Only shortly after the birth of a baby boy,
does the disease begin to take hold.
How was he to know it at the time?
How was he to fight it?
She feels sorry for him.
He was too weak, too infantile.
Masculinity was too strong, too violent.
It was one thousand years his elder,
a plague that passed through generations.
It spread like a cancer, the cancer of society,
and determinedly, eventually,
it turned innocent baby boys into "men,"
men crazed by the insatiable need
to control everyone and everything around them,
yet they cannot control themselves.
She feels sorry for him.
He is the real victim; he is sick,
though he will likely never know it.
And that is how masculinity thrives,
through attempts to blind its victims.
Because of her, some are starting to see.
He is realizing that he is sick.
He is beginning to recognize the symptoms.
It's a disease only few have been cured of,
because most men don't seek the cure,
though all they need to do is ask.
The remedy for his illness has been waiting,
but he did not yet know he needed it.
He was unaware that he was sick,
until she opened his eyes.
Being a man, he has been fooled by his disease.
If only he were a woman, 
he would have known better than masculinity.
And that is why she feels sorry for him.
Women have always known the plague.
She can feel it when she walks the streets.
She can see it on television.
She can hear it in the music.
She can taste it in his kiss.
She has been watching it grow.
She has been watching it spread,
infecting nearly every man she has known.
She has been watching this toxic masculinity, 
studying it, noting how it behaves.
She sees it everywhere.
She waits and waits,
hoping that one day, he will see it too.
If ever a man seeks the cure,
it will be waiting for him in the arms of that woman,
as it is waiting in the arms of every woman.
When he finally says aloud, "Help,"
she will open her arms, embrace the man, 
and tell him, "This is not you."
The man will look inside of himself.
He will recognize the truth in her words.
He will repeat, "This is not me."
And no longer will that man be
a slave to masculinity.









4 comments:

  1. I really enjoyed this, thanks!

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  2. how incredibly condescending - as a woman who saw the demon birth of feminism - I can only hope its death comes swiftly - shame on all of you

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    Replies
    1. It was meant as a response to all of the high profile rape cases in the media as of late, as well as to discussions of the toxicity of masculinity, hyper-masculinity, and ideas of "machismo," not to be condescending.

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