Anonymous wrote:I think men / boys who have been shown love and respect and taught they are worthy and values and appreciated are more likely to treat others the same way. I have taught them how to treat others but also to only accept respectful treatment and not to be with anyone who doesn’t respect and love and support them the way they should love and respect and support others. They have seen role modeling of men expecting respect and treating others with respect. We also extend that to how to treat anyone and how power and privilege can corrupt and create advantage and disadvantage.
They also know to watch out for women who see them as a wallet and to avoid anyone who expects them to pay for dates and buy them a lot of gifts. Yes they know how to cook and clean and know that they are not to expect a woman to do the domestic work either. They know that no means no both ways and no try to change anyone and avoid anyone who tries to change them.
I think it’s a combination or role modeling, teaching them how to treat others and teaching them how they should be treated. Men who have been treated badly tend to treat others badly so the importance and giving and getting respect is paramount.
It is constant worry of mine. I think I was an am a conscientious and generous parent but I don’t have any internal guideposts. I raised my kids by constantly watching others who appeared to do it well. It is such a gift to have caring parents, and that is the pathway to raising a good son.
I was treated badly under unusual circumstances. An identical twin, I was far less favored than my brother, beaten and abused and growing up in a household where signs were posted in the house that I was fat dumb and lazy, and gay to boot (not accurate but a common refrain). My father resented my laid back personality, and hated me with a passion of a thousand suns because I reminded him of my mother’s father, who he considered a loser. My mother was an addict and sided with my father, although at some level it hurt her to do so. I was a throwaway, completely dispensable and unwanted kid.
My father left the family when I was 16, with really no contact after his absence. The odd thing is that I was far from fat dumb and lazy. I was an All American in my sport and was a really good student on athletic scholarship at one of the best universities in America. Unlike my high school educated parents, I could do school really well if I found a way to pay for it. And while leaving at 18 entirely on my own was not easy, strangely I always felt hopeful because freedom was so wonderful. No abuse, no hiding, and occasionally my head would begin to lift after endlessly staring at the ground. I still feel good about my notionally difficult experiences, including poverty, and I am not sure exactly why (I did not ever drink or do drugs and was too much of a dork to have relationships with women). I did not have anger but did become resigned to misery. An enduring trait.
But this hit home when I became a parent. I was paranoid about passing the abuse down to the next generation and worked like crazy to avoid that. I never had a good barometer though and tended to react to situations by overindulging them. Not abuse, but not good parenting. I am trying to rationalize I did the best I could. The kids likely picked up on my fears and insecurities. They went on nice vacations, and deservedly so, but I don’t take vacations as I am way too cautious about work. I do very well financially and have never come close to being anything but a high value employee, but it has come at a sizable cost. The kids went to the Ivy League and everything was paid for with no debt anywhere with cars and vacations and clothes, but that was part of my fantasy to break the cycle and make the next generation better. I am not sure I emphasized being happy, a concept foreign to me. And my fantasy was mine, not theirs, so I have a feeling I did not do well by them.
My incredibly successful twin was an intense supercharged version of me who had some of my father’s behaviors. He was brilliant and (not so good for him) was surrounded by people who constantly told him so. He recently passed away paying for his sin of waking up every day promising to crush and humiliate his father. Well he did that, but he died early last year as a result. This death, and being unable to get my mother to ever manage her addiction, loom as sizable failures in my life. I avoid having them crush me because while they have launched my kids still need me.
I know this sounds silly, but the aha moment for me was in my high school AP class as my English teacher read Faulkner’s 1950 Nobel Prize speech about the resilience of the human spirit. A gay man who knew nothing about sports but who saw the need for me to have a surrogate father, he read that speech in a way directed right at me, as if the rest of the class was not present. I never ever thereafter wanted to let him down.