What Men Want to Say to Women (But Can’t)

A BOMBARDIER BOOKS BOOK

An Imprint of Post Hill Press

ISBN: 978-1-64293-312-3

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-64293-313-0

What Men Want to Say to Women (But Can’t)

© 2020 by Denise McAllister

All Rights Reserved

Cover Photo by Michael McAllister

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Post Hill Press

New York • Nashville

posthillpress.com

Published in the United States of America

To Michael and Dad

Contents

Acknowledgments 

Introduction

Chapter 1: Feminism Fatale 

Chapter 2: Believe Him 

Chapter 3: Men—Yes, We Need Them 

Chapter 4: Men As Magicians (Women Are So Bitchy) 

Chapter 5: Men As Kings (Women Steal the Scepters) 

Chapter 6: Men As Warriors (Women Aren’t Superheroes) 

Chapter 7: Men As Lovers (Women’s Boobs Are Awesome) 

Chapter 8: Masculinity Interrupted 

Chapter 9: Crisis of Identity 

Endnotes

Acknowledgments

All books are a labor of love. This one was also a labor of perseverance. I couldn’t have done it without the help of many people, beginning with my wonderful husband who has been a rock by my side through good times and bad. I still can’t believe he loves me, but he seems to hang in there on this crazy ride we’ve taken together. He and our children have been the loves of my life, and I thank each of them for their constant support while writing this book.

I want to thank my mom, whose confidence in me never fails, whose prayers for me never cease, and whose love has sustained me through the darkest times of my life. She is a woman of strength—a true feminist of the first variety who has helped me become the woman I am today. Likewise, my dad has been an inspiration in writing this book, and stories about him grace the pages. He believes in me, and that faith has helped me to believe in myself. In the same way, my brother, Steve, has been a constant source of encouragement—a cheerleader, just as he has always been, from soccer games when I was young to the political theater I find myself in today.

I also want to acknowledge two amazing ladies who have encouraged me during this project by listening to me untangle the thoughts in my head and reading the manuscript. My best friend, Katelyn, has been a fellow soldier in the battle for masculinity, and she has supported me with her insight and intuition—my Scottish fairy who sprinkles me with magic every day. And my dear friend Jenni has been prayer warrior on my behalf as I’ve emailed her chapter after chapter, peppering her with questions and fishing for reassurances. Her faithfulness is humbling.

I’d also like to thank my publisher, David Bernstein, who bravely took on this controversial project and has stood beside me when others jumped ship. His brilliance has been a North Star, and I appreciate him for the strong man he is. Another man of strength who has inspired me to write this book is David Limbaugh. He has been a gentle voice of reason and faith along this journey, helping me to stay the course in the midst of turmoil—as has Lynda McLaughlin, a woman of unrelenting strength, honesty, and a take-no-prisoners attitude. She has motivated me to keep moving forward, reminding me to just breathe.

Finally, I have to thank Jesus Christ, my savior and my God. Without him, I can do nothing. Only by his strength have I been able to ride the storm of life and not only survive, but thrive, in hope of helping others—however imperfectly. I pray this book will honor him and serve as a guidepost in human relations, reminding us of who we are and who we can become.

Introduction

I f you’re going to compete with men in the workplace, don’t ask for special favors or entitlements when you fail—and, for God’s sake, stop being so bitchy.

No, you’re not as physically strong as a man—and, if you think you are, take the hits of competition like a man.

Stop telling me how to parent our children. I’m not you. I’m not a woman. Children need a man in their lives—their father.

When I look at your boobs, I don’t want to rape you. I just think you’re beautiful—and sexy. That’s not a threat. That’s nature, and it’s good.

These are just some things men want to say to women but can’t—not without backlash or accusations of sexism. In this book, I unpack these sentiments—why men think them, why women should take them seriously, and how we can bridge fissures formed in relationships due to contemporary feminism. No matter one’s political persuasion, most of us agree there’s something deeply wrong in America today. Conflict has reached a fever pitch as our nation has become alarmingly polarized in the political arena. Many look to politicians and public policies for solutions, but journalist Andrew Breitbart rightly said that politics couldn’t be fixed if culture is ignored, because politics is downstream from culture. I would take this observation a step further—politics might be downstream from culture, but culture is downstream from relationships. If we don’t focus on the personal building blocks of society, we will fail to fix problems in culture and the politics that flow from it. If relationships are sick or broken—especially those between men and women—then everything else is affected. If there’s little love, respect, and trust there, you won’t find it anywhere else.

Issues of sexuality have always been controversial, but they are more so today than at any time in modern history. I recognize the complexity of the subject and the varied presuppositions many bring to it, which is why I want to state up front that I’m presenting this book from a theistic worldview in general and a Christian perspective in particular, though my purpose is not to write a religious treatise with Scripture quotations as proofs. Instead, I want to present a reasonable case from a cohesive worldview to aim for mutual understanding about masculinity and relationships.

Discussing anything regarding human nature without having a solid philosophical worldview and theological foundation is like running around in midair. We won’t get anywhere because then our arguments are simply one fleeting subjective truth bouncing off another, which is the state of too much discourse in America today. My presupposition is theistic because it makes the most sense to me, and it has been established as reasonable throughout history. I ask that you hear it in that context and not as a pulpit in which dogma and doctrine are dictated. Ask yourself, Do her arguments make sense? If they do, even if you reject the religious premise, then we have a starting point of shared understanding. I echo what Thomas Sowell writes in the introduction to his book about another controversial topic—race: If this book can contribute to understanding on a subject where misunderstandings abound, then it will have done its work.¹

I have been a journalist for years, writing about cultural issues—including feminism and its relationship to masculinity. As I’ve gathered data on these topics, I’ve found them to be mixed as the soft sciences of sociology and psychology are woefully lacking in objectivity and often corrupted by confirmation bias. When it comes to human nature, some things can’t be measured by an experiment. We have to experience them. We have to listen to the testimony of people about their own lives. But most of all, we have dig deep into fundamental truths to interpret the times in which we live. This is what I bring to you: experience, common sense, and philosophical, theological, and teleological truths—not random and conflicting scientific studies. To those who demand materialistic inquiry about relationships, sexuality, humanity, and identity, I wonder what they think of the countless books written before the modern era that imparted much wisdom about the human condition based on historical knowledge and philosophical understanding rather than faux science.

I am a woman talking to other women about men—and I know men. I’ve observed them in a variety of scenarios for over thirty years as a journalist. I have a father, a brother, a son, a stepson, male cousins, friends, and coworkers. I’ve been married twice. I grew up in a testosterone-laden world outside of Camp Lejeune, my youth impacted by the aftermath of the Vietnam War. I’ve worked in a man’s world, from advertising to news reporting, often the only woman in the room. I attended divinity school and often found myself in classes and ministry meetings surrounded by men. I’ve seen the worst of men and the best of men. I’ve seen men in moments of rage and in moments of profound gentleness. I’ve seen them excited like little boys as they unlock the secrets of how something works. I’ve seen tears in their eyes at the loss of a beloved dog or while watching a film that blew across a raw wound left by an absent father. I’ve felt the pain of their emotional backlash and cowered beneath a heavy hand. I’ve felt the comfort of their grace as I’ve lashed out in anger they did not deserve. I’ve witnessed their sacrifice in war and the faraway look in their eyes as they remember horrors I could never imagine. I’ve basked in the warm passion of a man’s kiss and felt the strength of his body envelop mine. I’ve been chilled by a man’s cold look in the face of betrayal and touched scars on their bodies taken for me. I’ve held them like a child in my arms and watched with delight as they held a child in their own. Tenderness, love, strength, and wonder. A man is a glory to behold, a power to respect, and a heart to treasure.

In an age in which men are not appreciated as they should be, I offer my insights and learning from the wisdom of other women and men themselves. I reach past the messages of the modern era and take from the knowledge of religious texts and philosophies, which have more insight into human nature and identity than the best of psychological theory today, to offer advice on how to repair damage done by modern feminism to relationships between men and women.

I stand not as a teacher above you or a dogmatic scold to intimidate you, but as a woman and fellow sojourner along life’s winding and wondrous path. I’m encouraged in my approach to this work by C. S. Lewis. In his book Reflections of the Psalms, he confesses to his readers that he’s no worldly expert on the topic, no historian or authority in an academic sense. He writes that he offers insight for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself. By way of analogy, he compares his communication with readers to two schoolboys figuring out a truth taught by their teacher, and it fits well with my own efforts.

It often happens that two schoolboys can solve difficulties in their work for one another better than the master can. When you took a problem to the master, as we all remember, he was very likely to explain what you understood already, to add a great deal of information which you didn’t want, and say nothing at all about the thing that was puzzling you. I have watched this from both sides of the net; for when, as a teacher myself, I have tried to answer questions brought me by pupils, I have sometimes, after a minute, seen that expression settle down on their faces which assured me that they were suffering exactly the same frustration which I had suffered from my own teachers. The fellow-pupil can help more than the master because he knows less. The difficulty we want him to explain is one he has recently met. The expert met it so long ago that he has forgotten. He sees the whole subject, by now, in such a different light that he cannot conceive what is really troubling the pupil; he sees a dozen other difficulties which ought to be troubling him but aren’t.²

Too many experts on human sexuality have forgotten what they once knew, or they have never grasped truths perceived by common sense because they let their methods get in the way. Like Lewis, I write this book as someone on equal footing with you who has experience—both as a seasoned journalist and as a Christian apologist who worked in teaching ministry for years—to bring to the conversation.

Often those who delve into the subject of feminism approach it much in the same way as others in contemporary circles: talking about the progression of the feminist movement, explaining its origins, and analyzing its effect on women and, to some degree, men. But there is a cold detachment to many of these writings, pregnant with too much academic study and filled with deviations from the reality of the everyday person’s life. Other publications on these issues are typically self-help in nature—valuable in their own right but not always insightful about the nature of the human heart and how the two sexes mysteriously join together, not just in marriage, but in all sorts of relationships. This is what I offer—a broader, deeper look at a troubling issue in today’s culture.

In doing so, I don’t assume to instruct women as a master—though, like Katherine in Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew, I will inevitably confront, rebuke, implore, and remind you of what you’ve forgotten or never considered. The iconic play tells the tale of a woman determined to live distinctly from a man, refusing to recognize her need of his strength or his need of her devotion. Its language no doubt makes the contemporary feminist ear burn, but the underlying message of appreciating men is as relevant today as it was then. The two sexes haven’t changed much from the dawn of time, not at their core or according to their design—this, despite modern efforts to subvert it. The grueling march toward androgyny in the name of equality has sown discord rather than peace. It has robbed us of trust and lessened us more than enlightened us. It has weighed us down in unhappiness and loneliness. It has fueled hatred instead of fostering love. It has divided us instead of making us whole.

We need to change—not a revival of male-dominated social structures in which women are denied rights and recognition of their abilities, but a reawakening of our designed purposes as human beings, as men and women, and as distinct individuals (a cohesive construction of identity that I explore in detail in Chapter 9). We need to remember our true selves—that we are not self-created but objectively fashioned for a reason: to love others, to complement and help the opposite sex as faithful companions rather than as competitors, and to reflect God’s image on earth in our work, our enjoyments, and our relationships to one another and the world. Our sexuality is not merely self-expression. It is rooted in the image of another, of God, who made us to have meaning and to carry out responsibilities in this life that cannot be separated from our distinctive natures as males and females. This objective reality doesn’t mean we all act the same, fill the same roles, or share the same experiences in life. We are not cookie cutouts of an ideal. We are actual individuals with distinctive callings and abilities, but overarching that individuality is a shared purpose with every other human being on the planet to be threaded into the fabric of history as males and females, not as androgynistic distortions of reality. That purpose, again, is rooted in love, cooperation, and faithful reflection of God’s goodness and objective truth in our lives.

In my criticism of feminists and the Marxist ideology that modern feminism has become, I am not referring to traditional feminism with all of its struggles to secure the rights and opportunities women enjoy today. I am addressing feminism as it is now—a power paradigm in which groups are pitted against others in the name of equity and individual rights are consumed by collectivist ideals. As I address these issues, I realize not all individuals fit into the same mold. But it is impossible to discuss such broad topics by addressing every outlier, every individual quirk, or even every personal experience, though I share some with you as way of connecting through narrative. My discussion deals in generalities about sexuality, though not abstracts, and they are credible because universals and archetypes are the bedrock of human existence, no matter the individual expressions. When I talk about women in general, I realize there are exceptions. Not everyone will see themselves in these descriptions, but they are common enough to induce confessions that they hit closer to home than we ordinarily care to admit.

Likewise, as I talk about men, I recognize that they are not all the same. There are good and bad men and a whole spectrum in between. When I praise men for the beautiful creatures they are, I am not excusing or glorifying abuse of any sort. I am communicating with sincere people about fundamental realities that are exemplified in lives well lived even if not perfectly executed. If your response is, But what about all the bad guys? you will miss the point. As Sowell said in similar discussions about race, One cannot predict, much less forestall, all the clever misinterpretations that others might put on one’s words. The most that can be done is alert honest people to the problem.³

Chapter 1

Feminism Fatale

"Girls, girls! Wipe those frowns off your faces and stop rolling your eyes. This disrespectful stance toward the man who is your lord, your king, your governor tarnishes your beauty the way the frosts of winter blights the land."

—Katherine, John Crowther’s modern (No Fear) translation of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew

Men have a lot to say to women but often can’t. They’re drowning in America today because one feminist wave after another has beat against masculinity, pressing it down under the weight of female demands and reshaping it into a bastardization that’s contrary to its divine design. The assumption is that male privilege has exhausted its run, and men must be silenced so others can speak—their song has played for too long and another melody needs to resonate throughout America. The very essence of their masculinity has been targeted, called into question, and labeled as noxious to an enlightened society. The notion of toxic masculinity is now pervasive in our national conversation, from politics to religious institutions, from academia and movies to advertisements. Gillette is one example. The company recently produced an ad portraying men as thoughtless, unacceptably aggressive, and sexually abusive—simplistic dolts who knuckle-drag their way through life. Customers protested Gillette’s message, insisting there’s nothing toxic about traditional masculinity. At first, Gillette stuck with its politically correct message, but it eventually shifted gears and started a new campaign that changed the company’s focus from social issues to local heroes displaying traditionally masculine traits. ⁴

Anyone can scan history with its various cultures and discover different masculinities that seem to bear little resemblance to one another: the hard-drinking machismo of Mediterranean cultures; the gang mindset of urban America that historically cuts across racial and ethnic lines; the oppressive male dominance of Middle Eastern theocracies; the quiet gentility of eighteenth-century America; the rough redneck cultures of northern Britain that migrated to America’s southern regions; and the battle-hardened warriors of tribal societies throughout Africa that require boys to hunt and kill animals by age twelve to prove their manhood. Some tribal cultures have such bizarre initiatory standards of masculinity that they would be rightly characterized as sadistic and immoral by civilized standards. The characteristics of manliness certainly change across cultures and time, but underlying these differences are basic similarities and universals that distinguish men from women—man as protector, provider, procreator, and leader. These universal masculine archetypes are qualities of nature, not mere roles. They are infused into the very essence of manliness for the benefit of society.

Americans, however, live in a culture that seeks sameness of the two sexes, robbing them both of their unique design and completion of each other. The result has been disastrous. In the words of Alexis de Tocqueville, who warned of equality’s perverted conflation with sameness, It may readily be conceived, that by thus attempting to make one sex equal to the other, both are degraded; and from so preposterous a medley of the works of nature nothing could ever result but weak men and disorderly women.⁵ American women of Tocqueville’s time in the early nineteenth century escaped this degradation, even as they enjoyed many more equalities with men (though certainly not all) than their aristocratic European sisters. These American heroines often exhibited masculine strength of understanding and a manly energy, Tocqueville observed, but they did not fail to retain the manners of women, although they sometimes showed that they had the hearts and minds of men.⁶ While political rights and equal opportunities were a distant reality, these women were on the path to equality without being debased by sameness.

Let men be men!

Modern feminism’s manufactured androgyny has created an identity crisis for men. They’re confused or at least frustrated about how they’re supposed to act at work, what they’re allowed to say, how they’re expected to raise their children, and what it means to be a lover. Feminists, who have ironically set masculinity up as the standard by which they measure equality, have propelled women into competition instead of cooperation with men. Feminists today have demanded to be equally represented in traditionally male positions, even when they’re not qualified. Until recently, men haven’t been pressured to take on women’s roles, though they have often done this out of necessity as single-income homes have transformed into double-income homes. Women were once satisfied with being included among the men in their traditional workspaces, given opportunities without obstacles of discrimination, and respected for the skills they brought to a variety of occupations. Now, feminists want men to shed their masculinity in favor of a more feminine identity, both in their roles and their behaviors.

Not only are men expected to respect a woman’s rights and a woman’s capabilities in the workplace (and rightly so), but they’re also expected to communicate like women, manage like women, and govern like women. Instead of men being free to emote like men, they’re told to join local male support groups to spill their feelings as women would and touch each other in nonsexual ways so they won’t be as aggressive. By participating in cuddle groups, they’re expected to learn to appreciate male physical touch without resorting to homophobia. This new feminized paradigm is far beyond male bonding and beating of drums around a fire in Robert Bly fashion. Sexual identity has