Member-only story
If Feminists Hate Men, How Come I Love My Husband So Much?
Because he’s a real man
The most valuable lesson my dad ever taught me was to never marry a man like him. As a kid, I looked up to my dad and desperately wanted his love and positive attention. Mostly I received criticism. Occasionally, he’d throw out a crumb of praise, which made me feel like gold. What hurt the most, though, was when he’d laugh at me. For some reason I cannot fathom, it made him feel better about himself to make everyone around him — including his own children — feel as small as possible, as if that’s what makes a man great. He also wanted to control everything, from the temperature in the house to what we ate. When we went out to eat, none of us were allowed to order for ourselves, including my mother. There was no point in trying to argue about it, because he had the final say, always.
My dad considers himself a near-perfect male specimen in all his misogynistic, gun-flashing glory. All I can see is an angry, fearful man who has to control and diminish others, and I knew once I left home I never wanted to be trapped in the same house with that small of a man again.
When I met Jim, he was everything my dad wasn’t — ke was kind and patient. He listened to my opinions and I listened to his. He appreciated we could have discussions on the same level and he had…
