I’m inclined to believe, based on observation and experience, that there exists in women an inner struggle vis a vis their relationship not with men, but to men.

Their intellect and feelings tell them that they need a man who can let go and be sensitive and vulnerable. That they are done with machismo and stoicism and they want someone who can just open up and be. Someone they can nurture and care for.

Yet at the same time their animal nature witnesses such and they experience a quiet uneasiness, or even revulsion. You can see this manifested in who in film or pop culture is lifted upon their collective shoulders in admiration. It is rarely the vulnerable or open or the man who has cultivated his emotional being over his physical being. There are rare exceptions but they are… rare.

At the end of the day it may boil down to this: How can someone who needs to be taken care of effectively take care of me? And I’m not saying this is a hard, fast rule but I do think the inside push-pull is real and exists in them. This isn’t a moral or ethical judgment either. It’s just something I’ve seen often enough to believe just might be true. It has impacted my life certainly, though mostly at times when I crossed the line from open and vulnerable into needy. I have to be honest about that. Yet I’ve also seen hairs on the back of the neck go up at a couple points where despite handling all my shit really well I’ve had to surrender and say, “You know what? I don’t have this all sorted. I could use some help, or just a little comfort.”

These thoughts would likely cause some issues if introduced to polite parlor conversation. They would probably be seen as accusatory or even angry. It’s not the case. I’m not angry at all. File this under things the interwebz kids would follow with “IJS.”