Hark, the Unicorn Men Have Arrived!

Interesting how the ones who hold the power subscribe to the belief that they are the elite; the same ones who stole, pillaged, and murdered, or at the very least, swiftly stepped aside so their brethren could feed off of stolen land and captured souls.

Unfortunately these degenerates are the descendants of men. Men themselves. Men are the ruling class, the ones who crave to use vertebrae as ladder rungs to fulfill the desire of their ego’s next conquest. Why? How? Have they always been this way?

Between colonialism, capitalism, evangelism, and patriarchy, the female never stood a chance.

“You hate men - you’re biased,” my husband says annoyed when I bring up that yet another man committed a mass shooting. He says it each time another man commits a bombing, an act of terror, a murder or a rape.

Men are responsible for 80% of violent crime. 98% of all homicide perpetrators are men. 99% of sexually violent offenders are men. Does the data show that I am really so biased? When each day I am surrounded by a gender who perpetuates such violence?

Yes, maybe I am. I clutch my keys between my fingers on long walks to my car in dark parking lots. I’ve lived an entire lifetime of never walking or hiking alone after sundown, missing out on the cool night air and the sacred, shining stars. Every sound heard over my shoulder in an unfamiliar place gets amplified by my nervous system, with the prospect of quickening footsteps signaling imminent danger. Since I was a teenager I’ve had to have a plan on what I would do if a man tried to assault me - would I fight and kick and scream and risk being killed? Would I be silent and hope it’s over quickly? Would I even pretend to like it, to like him so he would maybe, just maybe, let me live to see tomorrow?

I suppose yes, I am biased.

The disdain comes easily from having to live a life thrust into a pool of fear, rippling like searing magma through my veins. How could I not despise most of them, especially when very few have demonstrated they can behave safely? When very few stand against their own to admonish truly heinous behavior? And then, I think of my sons.

It’s funny how such deep disgust can melt away when I think about my own boys, loving and generous and kind. Until it dawns on me that my deepest horrors will be realized; these beautiful creatures, my babies, shall become men.

My heart softens a bit. The traumas from all men past weep. They anguish. They thrash. They surrender in desperation. The very things I love most shall inhabit the world for most of their lives as something for so long I could not stand to bear. How can I reconcile it? I must reconcile it.

Deep down I’ve always known it isn’t inherently man that is violently flawed. Rather, it’s the corruption of power, the patriarchy that cranks out its soulless army perpetrated on the meek. Patriarchy robs indiscriminately; it robs women of their safety, autonomy, and freedom. It robs the diligent soldiers of their spirits, their emotions, their compassion. An army which feels and communicates effectively cannot be commanded and controlled. While we lose our lives, so too do the soldiers, the men, all while clawing at their hollowly promised chance at calling the shots. Sadly, unbeknownst to the army, they’re instead being led straight off a cliff.

All of this to say, I know it’s society. I know it’s patriarchy, misogyny, racism, colonialism, classism, and the obscenely wealthy that generate these systemic issues; that corrupt and hijack our boys, our sweet, beautiful, innocent boys. I know they’re being used as a means to an end with their humanity stripped from them, too. Now my heart aches, aches with the epiphany that it never had to be this way. It doesn’t have to be this way. And yet…

Newer generations of young men are forming with parents and children alike quickly tiring of the status quo. A generation demanding safety and autonomy and true freedom for us all. A world without powerful oppressive systems running the show. Can you picture it? Baby boys are soothed by their mothers, encouraged to share their feelings and sob. A generation of boys who communicate emotions and dreams and passions effectively, and with gusto! Bright, ambitious young lads who feel proud to be themselves and to love, happy to love out loud. To fight for that love boldly. Dreamy and surreal, it’s almost too good to be true. Yet still, I meet another unicorn everyday.

My boys, my men will be unicorns, a beacon of hope in the sea of bleak. They shall pave the way for more like them, for more love, more compassion, more hugs. And for as long as I live they’ll never utter the phrase “babysitting my kids.”

Will I ever feel safe in a world with men? Maybe not. But I look forward to the day when the horizon is littered with unicorns.