My Rant On Men and Women

I have written about insecurity issues before on the blog, and I have talked a bit about how easy it is so absorb the insecurities of those around you by simple osmosis. I imagine being a Man is not easy. The pressures and insecurities that rest in "having" to be the financial provider in a marriage, the spiritual leader for the household, to be the pursuer in a relationship, to be masculine, and strong... without tears, without complaining. Some of my best guy friends in my entire life have been men of the Lord that have been able to be open in their tears, frustrations, have allowed the complaining to seep out of their minds and turn into something much more fruitful and productive. I have amazing examples of Christ in my life largely in part of the friendships I have had with His Son's seeking their Father. All that to say. I know that being a man is not easy. I cannot walk a mile in their shoes, and not just because I have a size 6 1/2 foot. If given the opportunity I would gladly take a moment, an hour at most of completely understanding what its like to be them. 

However, the stress and strain in being a woman is ridiculous. I have often wanted to shake modern culture to change the messages they speak about how we are expected to dress, act, look, behave, think, or believe. I have struggled with friends through their eating disorders, sexual purity issues, and how to silence the voices that are speaking nothing but lies about their worth and value. I have been one of them, at points all at once, and at other periods just dealing with one enormous lie at a time.

I have found more frustration in the ignorance and with the insecurity. I know that I'm not this model beauty queen... but I also know that I'm a daughter of Christ... I have been made in His image. The kind of person I am is not defined by my height or weight, and while I have my struggles about not being the ideal in either of those categories, I'm thankful that my heart is filled with pure and acceptance for who I am, the content of my heart, the ability to wear said heart on sleeve for Christ and love His people... all of them. The ones that feel like choices I make are wrong, those that discourage me, or make me feel inadequate- to the ones that tell me I'm beautiful when I'm barely put together, or that I have a value greater then that the world assigns. I am called to love both sets of completely varying people.

Where is all of this coming from? Well below contains one of the many reasons I love the singer/songwriter/YL friend Justin McRoberts. I think he is funny and insightful and I just all around think we'd be friends if we lived in the same town. Below is a post he put on his website and I read it, and thought "yeah, I completely agree"... but more then that I wish that there were more men of the Lord who saw women in that way. Not to knock my fantastic non-boyfriend boyfriends, they are some of the best people I've ever met... maybe it is because of the boundaries in our relationships, maybe it is just the age we're in... I don't know, but we just don't talk about these issues. This point of view also made my heart sad for the many girls I know that buy into the images of culture about how they look, what their worth is, how that is confined to what others can take from them, etc... Justin makes a strong statement about the power behind a woman who chooses to wear something that is counterproductive to how we, as women really want to be viewed and treated. Anyway, I liked his point of view quite a bit, so I hope you read it too:

"THE TSHIRT GIRL

I’ve never understood how any self-respecting woman can eat at Hooter’s. I know, I know, Hooters has great wings. Whatever. I’m sure that’s exactly why men go to these places, since it couldn’t have anything to do with what their waitresses wear, or more to the point, what they don’t wear. Great wings. Hooter’s is a restaurant chain named after a derogatory, sexually perverted reference to breasts. So I just don’t get it when I see women walking out of a Hooter’s.
Maybe I’m expecting something unfair from the female populace that I wouldn’t expect from the masculine. I suppose I fall in among the rest of our culture when I expect men to be more crude and unthinking; to embrace and even revel in the profane. But when it comes to women, I’d always figured they knew better and were more sensible/sensitive. Maybe I’m wrong, or maybe that’s changing.

A few weeks back, I ran into a girl wearing a shirt that bore the word “Hustler” on it. For those who are unfamiliar with the product, Hustler is a pornographic magazine that has been in circulation since the 1970s. Most of the time, slogans on shirts go right past me, but on this day, I had an almost immediate and definitely negative reaction.

I found myself somewhat shocked and feeling suddenly angry. In my shock I spilled coffee on myself. (To be completely honest, I’m pretty sure I would have spilled my coffee anyway, but for the sake building drama into the re-telling of this story, let’s pretend it was due to my reaction to this girl’s shirt.) In my anger I wanted to pull her aside to tell her “You are part of the problem with our culture, sexually speaking. Women like you are told that your value lies in your physical ‘beauty’; then told that you are worthless unless some male finds you sexually appealing and by wearing that stupid shirt, you are saying ‘Okay, (giggle) that’s neat!’”

I also wanted to say “In that shirt, your are announcing to the world ‘Yes, I know that men see me as little more than a body to be used and abused to fulfill the distorted sexual fantasies of whatever pervert wants to spend the money. But there’s nothing I can do to change my culture so if you can’t beat them, join them.’”

Finally, I wanted to say; “Your porn shirt should have come with a contract that clearly stated that ‘you are no longer allowed, from the date of purchase of said shirt, to complain about the objectification of women in any way shape or form because the product your body now endorses is the WORST shape and form of that objectification.’” Then I would’ve stomped out in child-like fury, most likely spilling coffee on myself.

Of course, I didn’t say any of those things. Distracted by the scalding sensation on my hand from the coffee I spilled as well as the mess I made on the coffee shop floor, I stood there in silence. I also froze up because she was with her boyfriend and he was considerably larger than I am (surprise, surprise). In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t speak up in my anger because even though I may have missed the opportunity to say something of influence, I may also have let my anger speak louder than the truth. (I also may have gotten punched in the nose).

Had I the chance again, and the perspective I have now, I might have said some of the above statements but I would have also wanted to tell her that the truth is she is beautiful because she is made to reflect the image of God. I would have also wanted to tell her that no matter what some magazine or television program says about her body, her skin, her hair or her clothes, she is valued because she is a daughter of the King of the Universe and she is created in His likeness. Then I would have liked to tell her boyfriend shame on him for letting her wear that shirt. And that it falls on the shoulders of better men to love their female friends for deeper reasons than sexual appeal and to mirror back the true beauty of their souls in order to counteract the lies that break girls hearts. Then I would have kicked him in the shins… and then I would run like mad."

Justin McRoberts