On repression and men: 101

I went out for coffee with a good male friend of mine the other day. We took our seats in the café and proceeded with a fantastic conversation about the latest holidays we’d embarked upon, the music festival that was coming up, and anecdotes about nights out with our friends. But inevitably I had to broach the question, “So what happened with your girlfriend?” And after a sigh, he embarked upon a quite simple explanation: “It was just too complicated for me.”

And I am brought back to the conclusion I usually make about all guys: they are so scared of feelings. Real feelings. Figuring things out. Deep stuff.

Don’t get me wrong, a huge reason I love having male friendships is because of the ease at which we can talk about the fun stuff. There’s no trashy gossip: just untainted conversation and plentiful funny stories that keep me giggling and relaxed.  Not to mention the added bonus that I feel pleasantly confident that they are not going to tear me to shreds the minute they get home. In fact, they probably won’t even give our coffee date another second thought for a few months until they suddenly realise they haven’t seen me in a while.

But when things get more meaningful, you can see the unease in their eyes; and on the flipside, women are like predators, inching forward in their booth to swarm upon their male prey. Because, quite simply, girls are just so much better at feelings than boys.

Sometimes, my sense of emotion can get rather intense and overwhelming, and I need a bit of guy-friend time to give me perspective and put all the silly stuff in the trash where they belong. But honestly, I like the fact that I can spend time pondering a complicated subject and finding some sense of internal rest at the end of my crusade. 

Usually, my thoughts turn into meaningful actions somehow. I can push things back into the place they are meant to be. And – like magic - my feelings eventually return to their normal feel-good state. I like the tide and pull of where my feelings take me. The feeling creates new pathways and draws me into love, creation, hope, magic. And I learnt a long time ago that falling into sadness for too long is a recipe for disaster and pointlessness. My happiness is resolute. It is a part of me. But I sure as hell will let myself feel the pain of a bad moment when I’m physically and emotionally supposed to. It’s life.

Men on the other hand will literally shut down. I’ve seen it time and time again. A whole face can change in a moment. Men in general are in constant feel-good mode and anything that obscures that sense of fantasy-reality will be ignored or avoided. I am just generalising of course, but I am perceptive enough to know that when a guy has that stone-cold-avert-eyes-clench-jaw-look, it usually means that they are banishing every sense of emotion out of their system. Striking a heartfelt chord is not something they like to admit to. But fooling around, however, is perfectly acceptable.

What happens when true feelings reach breaking point though? What happens months, years down the track when those thoughts that haven’t been resolved blow up with Freudian catastrophe?

It makes me wonder how on earth men and women are ever to live happily together. And how clichéd but true: opposites attract.

But maybe that’s the point. Perhaps this is just the way things are meant to be.