Throughout my life, I have often felt uneasy in the presence of men. While I feel at ease with my husband, only a few other men make me feel comfortable enough to drop my guard. This isn’t due to a conscious distrust; rather, it’s a psychological barrier that has formed over the years.
My father was the first to instill skepticism about men in me. From a young age, he warned me that men were untrustworthy, driven by base desires. He described them as viewing women merely as objects. As I matured, his warnings grew more intense, likely stemming from his protective instincts and discomfort with the idea of men seeing me as he viewed other women.
A traumatic experience marked my childhood when I was molested by an older male cousin. Additionally, a friend of my father’s would tickle me under the guise of play, using it as an excuse to touch me inappropriately. With every encounter, comments about my appearance flooded in, merging lewd remarks with seemingly innocent observations.
With no brothers or close male relatives to provide a different perspective, I watched as peers with brothers seemed more relaxed around men, as if they had uncovered a gentler side of them, one that didn’t constantly seek sexual validation. When I started to find boys intriguing, they became a puzzle to me: was I merely an object of desire, or something more?
In my interactions with boys and men, I struggled to empathize. Even in relationships, I often doubted their emotional depth, believing they couldn’t feel as intensely as women could. This disconnect lingered even with my husband, despite his kindness and love. I found myself questioning the authenticity of his feelings.
Twelve years ago, I welcomed my first child—a son. I remember grappling with feelings of guilt as I tried to muster excitement upon learning I was having a boy. How could I forge a connection with someone I inherently feared?
Yet, when he was born, I fell in love, embracing him despite my reservations about his gender. As a toddler, I introduced him to an empathy doll that sang songs about feelings. I was taken aback by how deeply he resonated with the doll’s sad tune about melting ice cream—his little lip quivering with emotion.
At around seven, he playfully tied a rubber band around our dog’s paw, and when I showed him the resulting injury, his remorse was palpable. Years later, he still remembers that incident with regret.
His first performance on stage revealed another layer of his character. A typically lively child, he suddenly became quiet and tense, overcome with nerves. After his performance, the relief and pride he displayed melted my heart.
When he began reading the Harry Potter series, a pivotal moment occurred. He rushed into my room, tears streaming down his face after Dumbledore’s death. It was a revelation to see a boy so affected by literature.
Last year, on the final day of fifth grade, my son revealed he had feelings for a girl at school. This moment, which I had anticipated with apprehension, turned out to be filled with tenderness. I had long feared that my son might grow to see women merely as objects, but the innocence and warmth in his affection for this girl challenged my preconceived notions. She is intelligent, creative, and articulate—qualities he clearly valued.
I won’t delve deeper into my son’s young romance, as it’s his story to share, but witnessing his genuine affection has been healing for me. Every instance of his kindness has chipped away at my long-held mistrust.
Now, I engage with my husband more openly, whether during light-hearted conversations or serious discussions. I recognize his desire to be good and to do good in a way I hadn’t before. While I acknowledge that some men may still harbor ill intentions, I now see that many possess kind hearts and noble intentions.
Though I may always feel a bit uneasy around unfamiliar men, my son’s presence has taught me to approach them with less judgment. He has become a beacon of compassion, illuminating the goodness in boys and men alike, and in doing so, he has opened my heart. I understand he won’t be perfect, but he has shown me the genuine virtue that lies within every good man. As a result, I am becoming a better person.
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Summary
This piece reflects on the journey of a mother, Jessica Lane, as she navigates her feelings toward men, shaped by her upbringing and personal experiences. Through her relationship with her son, she learns to embrace the goodness in men and boys, challenging her long-held fears and prejudices. Each moment shared with her son redefines her understanding of masculinity, compassion, and emotional depth, leading her to a more open-hearted perspective.