“Real Men Don’t Wear Nail Polish” or Malachai’s Adventures in Toxic Masculinity

While MRAs will frequently cry out “wut about the menz” whenever feminists dare to do something as simple as post a relatable meme for the purpose of likefarming, what many of them fail to realise is that it’s men that fuck each other over. The constant arms race to be “the bigger man” be it through whatever traditional image is in vogue or within a subculture, is a very damaging thing, for everyone. Herein are the chronicles of my experiences with toxic masculinity, my own personal struggles with trying to get out of it, a tale of much unnecessary bullshit. I’ll be focussing on interactions with people, because if I was to untangle the problematic messages in every piece of media I’ve experienced, I’d probably be at dissertation length.
My introduction to toxic masculinity was at home. Despite seeing himself as a woke and unproblematic individual, my dad would still take part in those annoying tests of manliness. In front of relatives he would try and perform subtle put downs, knowing should I kick back he’d be seen to be in the right. No matter how many times I’d performed a farm task in the past, he’d always use his entire vocabulary explaining it to the very smallest detail. The fact I had no interest in watching sports, that my goals featured more written words than farm labour, that I’d question his views from time, were all charges levelled against me.  That’s the thing about toxic masculinity, even if you’re trying to carve your own space out to just exist happily in, you’re still gonna get dragged into it. It’s a really unpleasant thing, that feeling of being in a competition you never signed up for, with someone you’re supposed to be able to rely on for help.
 Being a male in today’s society means having to conform to an arbitrary set of standards, no matter how much of yourself you might lose in the process. Toxic masculinity doesn’t just wear the guise of the “GAA fuckboy” that’s the subject of a hundred easy jokes on Yik Yak. If you can’t fit the ideal of county football playing, Oasis loving, future desk job fodder, well you’d better learn Wonderwall on guitar, acting like the king of the underground when you’ve never listened to an artist who isn’t on Spotify or has fewer than 5 million plays there. Another way to be a “man’s man” is to look to the past and fashion yourself as a contemporary Don Draper. It’s easy, drink only whisky, wear suits or smart casual everywhere like you’re forever in a business meeting and grossly exaggerate your own pulling prowess. While these are some obvious tropes you might nod and smile at seeing, toxic masculinity really does find its way into any sphere, any subculture.  Anything not approved by the Laddish Cabal and you’re in for a rough time. If your jeans are too tight, if you’re decorating your shoes with cute bows, if you’re trying on nail varnish, even just wearing a death metal top, you’d better be ready for some verbal abuse of the homophobic variety, Talents and avenues of self-expression are reduced down to having to answer the question of “will they help me fit in while also making me look better than the other lads” and by proxy, “will they help me shift wans”.
Nights out are often where I’ve noticed toxic masculinity in action most, it hanging in the air like the smell of Lynx Africa. The act of drinking is turned into a competitive sport, an act to neck as many pints of cheap bitter swill while remaining composed. You’re expected to go out and try and pull “moths”, “wans”, whatever the local dialect is, no matter your orientation, libido or indeed mental state. Even if you want to pull, and succeed, you had better be ready for an interrogation afterwards, with every aspect of their appearance picked apart. Lads will puff away on scavenged Marlboro Lights in the smoking area in an attempt to chat girls up, while at the same time sneering at you making a rollie around the back gate of school Monday morning. A girl just doing what she wants with lads, not fucking around with feels just to get the ride will be dismissed as a “slut”. By contrast, a lad who strings a girl along just to get what he wants, causing many tears and episodes of group chat venting will have infinite excuses made for his behaviour by his “mates”. “Mates” is in air quotes because while many lads may champion the “bro code”, it’s quite likely they’d take a chance to break it, displaying Lannisterian levels of skulduggery.
 There’s a fatal side to all this. Men are discouraged from showing any emotion besides, hunger, anger, and arousal. Every little thing must be bottled up, “cause boys don’t cry” as Robert Smith sang ironically. You’re not allowed to be a complex, nuanced human being, with a wide range of emotions, able to depend on others in tough times to give you a helping hand. This leads to shocking rates of substance abuse and suicide among males. I know from experience how utterly harrowing this can be. I’ve struggled a lot with carving out my own identity, not fitting into any of the pre-written scripts that set out how I should live my life and getting shit for it. Feeling utterly out of place simply for being who I am has done a number on my self-esteem, contributing greatly to pre-existing mental illness. The stigma towards mental illness in men has meant that even when people are sympathetic towards you, they don’t really know what to say or do to make it easier; or at worst you’re told to “man up, it’s not a big deal”.  I’ve felt guilty for being weak, for having stuff trouble me to such a great degree, so when I’d talk about it I’d act snarky, say “I’m a fuck-up, a useless mess, it doesn’t matter that there’s shit going wrong”. While crying should be a natural thing, I still feel a deep sense of unease whenever it happens around other people, like I’ve been caught off-guard. The help of friends has made things easier, yet I still find myself slipping into the mind-set of “talking is pointless, just drink until you don’t feel sad anymore”.
 Men shouldn’t have to be strong or brave all the time to feel like they’re men. Men shouldn’t be stuck trying to live up to these ideals that were just made to sell products, keep women oppressed and keep us all locked in this horrible cycle. Men shouldn’t be neglecting their mental health and self-care for fear of being called weak. Men should be free to express their emotions, to choose whatever clothing and media suit them, to live their lives freely. Unlearning toxic masculinity is not gonna be an easy task, while I may recognise it now and know where I’ve gone wrong, I still at times struggle with it. But it’s a necessary thing, if we want to destroy the patriarchy, if we want to move forward as a species, we need to end the vicious cycle of toxic masculinity.