Female Rage and Toxic Masculinity

13 West Street, Boston

I was in Boston to drop my youngest back off at college recently. Coming from a “swing state” in Pennsylvania, I was overcome by the glorious “blueness” of Boston — The incredible public library. The trains that are easy to use and on time. The walkability and safety. The laughter of people playing ice hockey on the frozen pond in Boston Common as it gently snowed. The sense that education, books, and culture are valued and appreciated. History is alive on every corner. I traveled to one such corner that was once the home of Margaret Fuller’s conversations, where she and Elizabeth Cady Stanton first discussed the rights of women together. As some of you know, I am a little bit obsessed with Margaret Fuller and have read enough that I can slip myself into her skin occasionally. Standing on this corner in the snow, in front of the commemorative plaque placed on a decimated, derelict building, I felt both deep sorrow and burning rage. Yes, we have come far. I can wear pants. I can own my own property. I can travel without a chaperone in my own car. Slavery has been “abolished.” But sliding backward into the current pit of toxic masculinity feels more dangerous than it’s ever felt before. The weapons are more deadly, and the reach is more extensive.

On the drive home, I downloaded Ralph Waldo Emerson’s book Nature. Ralph and Margaret were friends, inspirations to each other, and also sometimes frustrated frenemies. Of course, I love nature, and Ralph Waldo Emerson is a pillar of Transcendental thought. Even though I had tried to read the book ages ago, I was looking forward to hearing it again. I lasted about 15 minutes into the book and couldn’t stand it anymore. The pompous, entitled wankering was too much. I could feel Margaret inside of me fuming. “Of course he had the luxury of lolling about in nature and opining on it! He had freedom, money, wives, property, access to education, and resources. He was a man.” I felt her spitting. Margaret, on the other hand, had to support her mother and siblings after her father died, even though she was unable to attend college or be paid for anything other than teaching children and then eventually writing. She was confined by so many rules and regulations that kept women from competing with men that it was only when she escaped to Europe that she began to see what was possible. Sadly, she, her lover, and her young son died within sight of Fire Island on a boat that was sunk by an incompetent man. She had never learned to swim.

The rage I felt driving home and listening to that book, and then checking the “news” when I got home, seemed to grow even hotter and more dangerous: The Jack Smith Report that should have been released before the election. The ass-kissing by all the tech bros to a convicted felon with no morals. The blaming of everything on DEI and Wokeness. The absolute trashing of the rule of law in pursuit of power and escaping from the consequences. The threat of withholding aid to California because they are a “blue” state (that happens to provide more tax income to the US than any other state). The complete lack of compassion and caring of the incoming “administration” as it relates to the catastrophic fires in LA. The likely banning of TikTok, where so many of us find community and information not available anywhere else. The overt desire for toxic masculinity to destroy the country and freedoms that many of us hold so dear.

My conclusion? Too many men are lazy ass bastards who will cheat, lie, and steal rather than lean into and achieve TRUE masculinity. They worship the illusion of masculinity (bulked-up muscles, facial hair) just like they worship the illusion of femininity (botox lips, false eyelashes, big boobs, fake nails). Harsh, I know. But I don’t care because if I don’t speak out now, I may never have the chance again. And I’ve got Margaret sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear. As she said once: “There exists in the minds of men a tone of feeling toward women as toward slaves.” I see it still.

Look, guys, I get it. For thousands of years, women have died in childbirth, leaving you alone and abandoned. For thousands of years, religion has scared you into burning in hell if you act out on your fantasies of sex with women, men, children, or beasts. You have been repeatedly traumatized by war, death, and killing. You don’t want to get too close to a woman because she might leave you or die. You are suffering from multi-generational PTSD pounded into you by your fathers, grandfathers, and the stories you’ve been told over and over again. I see you. I understand. But it’s time to heal. Time to break free of those imaginary chains that are keeping you from finding true joy and becoming a real man.

True, non-toxic masculinity is when a man has honor and integrity (not in the Middle Eastern honor-killing definition). When a man is strong enough to tell the truth and face the consequences. When a man is willing to win fairly and lose with grace. When a man is bold enough to learn how to pleasure a woman and secure enough to accept when she says no. When a man is confident enough to express his sexuality with any gender, provided it is consensual and with adults. Men need to become as capable as women and less threatened by women’s natural powers. And yes, we have them. That’s why you try so hard to hold us down. You are afraid. That’s okay. If you are good to us, you won’t have to fear us.

Seen in a woman’s bathroom in the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum in Boston.

I would love nothing more than to feel free from rage. To feel safe in my own country. To feel like justice and compassion are valued and respected even more than money and fame. Sadly, too many men don’t fight fair. And the ones with lots of money are the worst. And now they are taking over our government.

I don’t know what the answer is. Today, while meditating, I felt Margaret on the deck of the ship as it was sinking and her absolute sorrow and fear and rage. I couldn’t help but wail and cry for her. And for all the people who have lost everything in the fires of California and the floods of North Carolina. For her. I will speak for her. And for the women of Afghanistan who are imprisoned in their own homes and who are not allowed the luxury of loving. And for my daughters and granddaughters, who deserve to live in a world that trusts and respects them. And for the earth, nature, who sustains all of us, whether we are red or blue, male or female, gay or straight, rich or poor.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” One of the Tiffany windows in the Arlington Street Unitarian Universalist Church in Boston.

“We would have every arbitrary barrier thrown down. We would have every path laid open to woman as freely as to man.”

Margaret Fuller — Woman in the Nineteenth Century