”) and finally, passive-aggressive digs (“Why is it that I seem to be acutely aware of your success? Despite the vigor with which he was waving his red flags, I put my professional feminism to work in locating a political justification for his behavior.Unfair standards of masculinity, I told myself, put undue pressure on men to be “men.” As a feminist, I recognized that when men don’t act man enough, their girlfriends, friends, and families can disapprove. And those unrealistic expectations of manhood are only exacerbated by a broken economy. Obscured by my righteous political justification was a far less feminist lining—the kind where he hurts me, and I let him.He chose to deal with his very real identity crisis by wielding his anxious masculinity at every turn in our relationship.I cut him slack for his insecurity, and he used every inch: He was mysterious, unreliable, withdrawn.After all of my waiting and hoping, he broke it off with me because he had found another woman he wanted to pursue more seriously.I was left to wonder how exactly a MWLSE finds the balls to pursue a relationship with someone .
Most people who have experienced abuse, neglect, abandonment and rejection often attract spouses in relationships who can reinforce the emotions that are associated with these experiences.
Only then could we find men who were free to be truly confident, unhampered by the weight of our accomplishments.
In the end, those stories were right about one thing.
I wasn’t the only one drawing this crooked but convincing line between my success and his failure.
I couldn’t open up any newspaper or lifestyle website without reading another story about how successful women have killed romance by making our male partners feel bad about themselves. We should stop being good at stuff, or at least stop talking about it.