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Specifically Being A Man

Once or twice a month I start an inner dialogue attempting to clear up the conflicting information on my own self-perception, other times I’m preoccupied with just being, or at least approximately speaking. And I am as that happens a male, that much is very clear, always has been, so when I evaluate my identity specific to being a man, I want to keep this as clinical as possible.


Because I know that as a man who has always willingly identified as such, I have as far as memory goes, aspired in some want to embody certain attributes or virtues that have classically been associated with male masculinity, so as much as I will always respect an individual’s decision to redefine their gender identity by their own terms, I am very much still subconsciously operating on the pursuit of fulfilling the path that I’ve always felt to be on. A path that aligns all facets of my personality and identity with a predetermined template of male sis heteronormative something or other, I haven’t quite found the right way of summarising what it is, but it somehow, is, all the same.


For all the obvious and unnecessary cultural conditionings, that paints a reductive and inaccurate picture of the sexes. This, gut feeling that I previously described, has always seemed to have some biological relation. I am, however, no biologist, it is simply that the world that has been presented to me so far, enforces his suspicion more than it hinders, and I would like to think of myself as a fairly critical thinker. My views non the less, evoke and mature, I’ve witnessed as much toxic masculinity as I have virtuous, and it’s not been confined to men, neither would it be compulsory to them, but has on memorable times, in its own particular way, been something that was widely appreciated by all concerned.


My only point, (if I have one), is that I have an unceasing need to clarify, and warrant the full nature of this relationship to ones male self, not that it would be the same necessarily for the next male, but as much as one male may wear a dress for the first time and feel instantly like a missing part of themselves has fallen into place, I as a male, am finding that the cultural signifiers in my environment, are more ambiguous than they once were. That is perhaps for the greater good, it only leads me to now evaluate, what manner of manly self-validation does one actualise when there’s a surplus of testosterone and a diminishing agency of artful ambiguity to send these channels through,


This could be the world’s most elaborately pseudo intellectual way for a job welding human to confess he is severely lacking a sex life. Well, I’m not blaming lockdowns, this one is on me for a decade’s worth of counter intuitive self-analysis.

Testacies do not always give sound advice, and that should be noted, but in their reflective wisdom, when a man’s balls tell him to occupy his thoughts in the present. This much is worth listening to, the rest takes both virtue and finesse, (that’s one for each ball.)


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