Sorry for the wall-o-text but I was mulling on this some more and came across some articles, particularly one in The Atlantic, that talks about masculinity and Trumpism and how the right is embracing masculinity as part of the culture war that's "new" and "strange".
But it really isn't. Google up Umberto Eco's Ur-Fascism essay, re-read it through the lens of what Laura has written here, and you see literally all of the modern day culture war/masculinity tropes sprinkled through the essay. It's the carrier wave for fascist/authoritarian ideas.
I don't necessarily think a lot of the men's movement grifter shit is explicitly fascist, the scene dates before this current moment, but it's been politicized and capitalized by people who skew fascist. I think it's important to realize there are real problems with the whole concept, and it feels like the left has kind of just given up on the subject, but the Right is weaponizing it as a means to an end.
Hmmm "I'm in this photo and I don't like it" *checks box*
The first half of that article makes me twitch and I hear echoes of the voices that I explicitly went to therapy to deal with.
My feminist friend circle in real life was wonderful, supportive, and I genuinely respected and cared for them.
Online they repeatedly told me I was a rapist waiting for an opportunity, that nothing I did would ever matter, that I was completely irredeemable, that even doing anything other than STFU or 100% agree with whatever was being said was not just bad but *evil* and even an assault.
I internalized the concepts of worthlessness, irredeemability, and being unworthy of love or friendship. For *years*. When I tried to say what I was feeling I was told "why do men always have to make this about THEMSELVES?" and it was like "well, you're making me feel like shit, and we're supposed to be friends." In the end I spent like 2 years literally avoiding all human contact except for work and absolutely minimal interactions to get through life. I honest-to-god felt that the world *loathed* me and that every interaction with me was unpleasant at best and harmful at worst. This is what the people I loved, cared for, and trusted, taught me.
Part of why it got to me so bad is my own history, and I'm working through that in therapy. Oddly enough, it feels easy to talk about this because I've spent years being ashamed that I exist. A lot of other things, outside of interacting with people, feel anxious or shameful, but they're like a match next to the sun.
And yet, they aren't that way in real life. I don't know what it is about social media, or being online, that allows people to so readily dehumanize other people, down to real life friends, but there's something about it that seems to reduce humans down to... abstract ideas. If there was one thing I could impart to every person out there on the internet it's that... real people are on the other side of that computer. People who have dreams and fears and who poop and who are probably grouchy in the morning or late at night and who probably need to get laid every so often and who grumble on Mondays because work sucks and who loves their family and their children and are trying to get through this world the best that they can suss out. They're very much like you. And me. Even when we feel diametrically opposed, they're almost the same as you and I. I don't always manage to keep that truth in my head during online interactions, but it's an ideal I aspire to.
Part of getting better was quitting almost all social media and curating what I am exposed to carefully. And also apparently leaving a lot of friends behind, because they won't engage in real life, or even in non-social media spaces. I don't get that part either, but I'm not angry... just... sad.
If anyone reads this and is out there feeling worthless and hears the demons in their head at night whispering their existence is painful to this world, I know this pain. You've been done a disservice and your mind is trying to survive the only way it knows how. You deserve contentment and stability and you're worthy of (albeit not *owed* by any individual) love and friendship. Even if you're fucked up somehow. I don't have answers, but I do see you as a human, just like me.
Sorry for the wall-o-text but I was mulling on this some more and came across some articles, particularly one in The Atlantic, that talks about masculinity and Trumpism and how the right is embracing masculinity as part of the culture war that's "new" and "strange".
But it really isn't. Google up Umberto Eco's Ur-Fascism essay, re-read it through the lens of what Laura has written here, and you see literally all of the modern day culture war/masculinity tropes sprinkled through the essay. It's the carrier wave for fascist/authoritarian ideas.
I don't necessarily think a lot of the men's movement grifter shit is explicitly fascist, the scene dates before this current moment, but it's been politicized and capitalized by people who skew fascist. I think it's important to realize there are real problems with the whole concept, and it feels like the left has kind of just given up on the subject, but the Right is weaponizing it as a means to an end.
Hmmm "I'm in this photo and I don't like it" *checks box*
The first half of that article makes me twitch and I hear echoes of the voices that I explicitly went to therapy to deal with.
My feminist friend circle in real life was wonderful, supportive, and I genuinely respected and cared for them.
Online they repeatedly told me I was a rapist waiting for an opportunity, that nothing I did would ever matter, that I was completely irredeemable, that even doing anything other than STFU or 100% agree with whatever was being said was not just bad but *evil* and even an assault.
I internalized the concepts of worthlessness, irredeemability, and being unworthy of love or friendship. For *years*. When I tried to say what I was feeling I was told "why do men always have to make this about THEMSELVES?" and it was like "well, you're making me feel like shit, and we're supposed to be friends." In the end I spent like 2 years literally avoiding all human contact except for work and absolutely minimal interactions to get through life. I honest-to-god felt that the world *loathed* me and that every interaction with me was unpleasant at best and harmful at worst. This is what the people I loved, cared for, and trusted, taught me.
Part of why it got to me so bad is my own history, and I'm working through that in therapy. Oddly enough, it feels easy to talk about this because I've spent years being ashamed that I exist. A lot of other things, outside of interacting with people, feel anxious or shameful, but they're like a match next to the sun.
And yet, they aren't that way in real life. I don't know what it is about social media, or being online, that allows people to so readily dehumanize other people, down to real life friends, but there's something about it that seems to reduce humans down to... abstract ideas. If there was one thing I could impart to every person out there on the internet it's that... real people are on the other side of that computer. People who have dreams and fears and who poop and who are probably grouchy in the morning or late at night and who probably need to get laid every so often and who grumble on Mondays because work sucks and who loves their family and their children and are trying to get through this world the best that they can suss out. They're very much like you. And me. Even when we feel diametrically opposed, they're almost the same as you and I. I don't always manage to keep that truth in my head during online interactions, but it's an ideal I aspire to.
Part of getting better was quitting almost all social media and curating what I am exposed to carefully. And also apparently leaving a lot of friends behind, because they won't engage in real life, or even in non-social media spaces. I don't get that part either, but I'm not angry... just... sad.
If anyone reads this and is out there feeling worthless and hears the demons in their head at night whispering their existence is painful to this world, I know this pain. You've been done a disservice and your mind is trying to survive the only way it knows how. You deserve contentment and stability and you're worthy of (albeit not *owed* by any individual) love and friendship. Even if you're fucked up somehow. I don't have answers, but I do see you as a human, just like me.