I would love to meet some 80’s generation kids that grew up in a single parent family. I was raised by my Mum alone, and back in the 1980’s I was somewhat of an anomaly. Explaining it to my peers was somewhat difficult; I would be frequently met by the side cocked head as if whoever I was explaining my circumstances to truly didn’t get that there was only my mother in our house. I really didn’t know many people at all sharing the same circumstances.
Even the rough kids still had Mum and Dad, you know? The kids that would punch you in the face for looking at them wrong, those kids. I think back then I was one of the only kids in my school to live in a single parent family. It didn’t bother me much though, I mean, although my friends didn’t understand it, it grew on them. Kids may not be understanding, but they were brilliant at accepting it and carrying on as if it was normal.
My Mum was the best ever. She still is. She looked after every need that I’ve ever had. Being a parent now I partially understand the worry and craziness I put her through in my youth, and she had to deal with it all alone. I have my wife to bounce ideas off of whereas she would have to sit there in her own crazy worry, with no-one to sound off to, or calm her down. It must have been a nightmare.
Single parentdom isn’t without it’s downfalls though. And winging it solo in such an era of non-enlightenment was hard for parents and kids. As far as I know it. I’ve met at least a handful of likeminded people that have grown up like me since the 80’s.
Getting what I want out of life as a young man was hard. Mainly because I only had my Mum with me, and Mum was very feminine. She didn’t want to engage in the boisterous fun young boys have. I can remember always wanting to play fight but my mother didn’t have it in her; she frequently tells me it’s something that she bitterly regrets in life.
Mum had secretly always wanted my Dad to be in my life, she had a very stable upbringing and knew the importance of the presence of a Father to a boy.
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Mum knew the poison that Dad was. That allowing him into my life would only destroy me from the inside out. She had a dilemma. On one hand, she could stop my Dad from seeing me at all, that my life would be better off without him, not knowing anything about the man would help me come to terms with my fatherlessness in years to come. Not that she had much trouble with that at the start, he had opted to stay out of my life. And on the other hand, she could allow him to be in my life whenever he wanted, to infect the very essence of my being; he’d destroy the lovely boy I was turning out to be.
Mum had secretly always wanted my Dad to be in my life, she had a very stable upbringing and knew the importance of the presence of a Father to a boy. One day, on my Grandfathers funeral, when I was 10, an opportunity arose for Mum to meet with my Dad and talk to him about the affect his absence was having on my life. They mutually agreed for him to visit me occasionally.
But Mum being Mum, she couldn’t help but try and protect me; shield me from his toxins whenever they presented themselves. They did in the end too. But that aside, the largest failing in my life was my mother’s obsession with trying to shield me from my Dad’s hurt — not that I blame her of course. But that created a personality split for me; one that admired the ground that my Dad walked on, and another that hated the very essence of his being.
I ended up being fractured. The side of me that admired Dad and worshipped the ground that he walked on grew into my sense of self. I was a good man, nice, eloquent and people liked me. I felt good about the person that I was. But the side that equally hated Dad, I absolutely rejected my sense of Masculinity, that being male wasn’t a good thing, and other men were just complete dicks.
So, from there I developed the crazy notion that I was better than other men because I was different – do you see how my sense of self and rejection of masculinity bonds there? And this had no end of implications for me as a young male.
I had developed a sense of self that had put himself on top of other men in the food chain, because I loved myself and equally disliked all other men. Perhaps dislike is too strong a word. I had distracted myself from the notion that I was broken, and had projected the brokenness unto other males. I did have friends that were male, but in my mind, I was worth more than them. This for me, was a messed-up reality to find myself in.
It didn’t help with women. I had no perception that perhaps fifteen other men were chasing the same prize I was, and in my own mind I was the top prize. I didn’t understand effort; I had already put myself on top of every other man that was interacting with her. I was first place. I didn’t realise that with most of these women I was going to have to work damn hard to get in their personal zone. I thought by just being there was enough; my entitledness was staggering.
I think my Mum’s obsession over trying to control the outcome over my interaction with Dad seeped over into my personality, and not in a good way.
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This whole putting myself on a pedestal didn’t serve me well in life either. I thought opportunity should come my way because I deserved it. When I was younger a fair bit of opportunity fell on my lap but mainly because I worked hard and had a face that fitted, but as I became older and into my twenties I struggled. My life was slowing down and opportunities didn’t come like they should have. You’d think I’d think,
“Right, I’ll go out and create my own”
No. I sat right there and waited for them to come for me. I was this amazing person, better than those shitty other people, why shouldn’t these amazing opportunities fall on my lap as if I was the Queen of Sheba?
It was much, much later in life that I realised I had to create my own wealth in this world.
I doubt Mum has any idea that she had caused this paradox effect in me, and I don’t blame her, I mean she was only doing what she thought was best for me with the tools that she had at her disposal. It’s always hard being a parent. No-one has the right answers. And It all came from a very well-meaning place and that’s the main thing.
Yet there was a lesson to be learned from this, for me anyway. As I look back it was probably in my best interests to make my own judgements on life, my parents, and the world. If I had been allowed to grow into my own way however I seen fit, then perhaps it would have been better for me. I think my Mum’s obsession over trying to control the outcome over my interaction with Dad seeped over into my personality, and not in a good way.
I’ve taken to letting my son grow on his own. He’s allowed to be himself in every way possible, within reason. I’m hoping my mistakes won’t seep into his life! A healthy balance between control and freedom to express himself.
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There’s are some excellent books I’ve found dealing with the problem of men being raised by mothers. One is called “He” by Robert A. Johnson. It is a book that uses the story of Parsifal in King Arthur’s court to explain the development of masculine consciousness and the importance overcoming the weakness a mother leaves with a son who does not have a father growing up. A man who cannot overcome this weakness is unable to mature into being a man and remains a boy his entire life. The reason a father deprived boy remains boyish is that the role… Read more »
Hey Ray, Though I’ve not commented often, I’ve been following your journey as I too was the product of divorce, suffered some sexual violation (mine from a woman), and have dealt with much of what you write about, including this situation. The reason that I move passed it all was the one glaring difference in that my dad fought long and hard to stay in my life, and did. I also had a plethora of involved uncles, fathers of friends that helped guide me. You’ve had a batter, and have had to battle your entire life to find something that… Read more »
Femininity is far more toxic than masculinity.
Maybe he should be writing about the effects of toxic femininity?
Seems that one was just traded for the other without ever imagining there might be a middle ground.
This term “toxic masculinity” has got to be dropped. It is, unfortunately, part of the unconscious misandry that pervades the modern zeitgeist.
I’ll prove it to you.
Please show me a feminist oriented site (HuffPo, Jezebel, xoJane, Bustle – and on and on and on) where the keep going on about “toxic femininity”.
Toxic is toxic, no matter one’s gender or gender preferences. By promoting the phrase “toxic masculinity” this site actually makes the world a worse place rather than a better one. It leads women to hate men, and men to hate themselves.
I am so tired of the term “toxic masculinity”
Well guys, the term Toxic Masculinity is not a bad term. What is bad is how we’ve twisted and perverted it in an attempt to, once again, blame men for everything from flat tires to rainy days. As I’ve often said, the term was coined by a man by the name of, Shepard Bliss well back during the Iron John movement of the 90s. It was not a term designed around male abuse, wife beating, or anything else, but of how society could then, and still does not give a rats arse about us beyond how they may condition and… Read more »
In fact, most of the problems that some men are facing today is not the result of masculine teaching. From well back to David Blankenhorn penning “Fatherless America”, to the reality that over 90% of our most violent criminals in the system today are the product of the single parent female head of household, right up to the noted and demonstrated realities that both our boys and girls raised without fathers fall short across the board, it is clear that yet another myth permeates this society. Id almost say its a case of mixed signals or wanting to have one’s… Read more »
Tangled web indeed, gentlemen.
And guys like Raymond have paid a terrible price for it. Aliened, confused, swindled.
We’ll get there though, we’ve faced, as men, tougher challenges than this.
What’s sad is that it’s not going to get better for long time. We have a couple of generations of boys/men who have and will continue to adapt to what we now have. With all the hooplah coming out of the mouths of the progressives, feminists etc, it’s clear that it is no more then lip service. I wish there was a campaign that would have the skills to orchestrate a march for men. An all inclusive march …