It’s Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, and I find myself answering a thread of replies to one of my Medium stories because it’s flipped a switch for me. I can’t stop myself from continuing the dialogue. It’s a topic I think often about: the relationship between men and women, the narratives we tell about each other and all the harm we cause one another. Being a woman has always had its challenges. Right now, it’s a difficult time to be a man. Many of them surely deserve it. Historically, the gender’s dominated the social and political landscape. Perhaps they don’t deserve our pity. But still. I love men. They’re getting kicked where it counts right now, and not every single one of them is guilty of perpetrating the offenses of their sex.
This is not a letter to the gender as a whole. It’s to the extraordinary men I’ve loved in my life, with whom perhaps I didn’t behave in ways that I should have. I’m a product of my cultural upbringing, by which I include Disney, Looney Tunes, Brady Bunch and the rest of seventies programming. I could blame the socialization of my gender for my transgressions and for theirs, but I’m not here to point fingers. I’m here to make amends for anything I may have said or done that was hurtful or harmful to all the men I’ve loved. I did the best I could at the time. Sometimes my best wasn’t good enough.
I’m guilty of keeping a man up until 3 AM trying to be understood.
I’ve kissed a man, then ghosted him.
I’ve been controlling and critical.
I’ve taken men for granted.
I’ve lost my passion when a man lost his strength.
I’ve been jealous and insecure.
I’ve objectified men.
I’ve stayed when I should have left.
I’ve led a man on when I didn’t mean to.
I’ve slept with men I shouldn’t have.
I’ve stayed silent when I should have spoken.
I’ve spoken when I should have stayed silent.
I’ve dragged men to therapy when sometimes the answer was to accept them as they were.
I’ve accepted a date when I knew I didn’t return a man’s affections.
I didn’t have the courage to speak my truth.
I didn’t say no when I should have.
I didn’t say yes when I could have.
I held on when I should have let go.
I’ve enabled cycles of emotional abuse, when I should have left sooner.
I’ve talked about men behind their backs.
I’ve broken up with a man in therapy because I didn’t have the guts to do it on my own.
I’ve married a man I knew in my heart wasn’t right for me because I was scared there wouldn’t be someone else.
I’ve used men as a crutch, to feel less lonely or good enough.
It wasn’t about you. It was about me.
I know there’s a flipside to every one of these apologies, but today is Yom Kippur. It’s my turn to say I’m sorry. You can apologize tomorrow.
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Previously published on “Hello, Love”, a Medium publication.
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Photo credit: iStock
