A man seems to awaken sometime in middle school or high school, when he discovers that he is smitten with the girl across the classroom. At least, it happened for me at that time, though others felt the sensation stir as early as primary school. For me it was sometime in middle school. And the desire to make my feelings known and the girl to return them with affection and affirmation became overpowering.
This is not about one girl or one story. Guys go to bed every night, thinking or wrestling with the thought of a woman or women, or maybe even an actual woman there. A large part of our emotions and thoughts is devoted to sexuality: thoughts like I can get her. There's also that bitch fucked me over, as some delve into past forays with women.
Some guys don't really operate on that level, though; they've resigned to a simple life of easy conquest and uncomplicated interaction with women. I meet them, I bag them, I partner with them, I marry them, I divorce them, I think of them. For those guys, it's simple.
For other guys, those who seem to share my circles, it's a struggle. Women are elusive and it pains us, unlike guys who just put it down to a different genetic makeup and some psychobabble they mangle to explain female behavior. I'll call them Breezers and the other type Deepers. A Breezer rarely struggles with the inscrutability of women; if he does, there seem to be social rites and forms to help him get through it: the drinking binge, the one-night stand, casual encounters, and the staple diet of pornography that becomes the main sustenance.
I am most likely a Deeper. I don't get women and I'm not ashamed of it and I don't make light of it. I find women on the whole to be insecure, sometimes driven by insecurity every day of their lives. I've spent many, many days and months and years, trying to analyze and understand their actions, words, and thought processes. This will not be an essay where I attack the subject by making light of it. This is a testament of my frustration and a public record of how and why I want to give up on them, but I can't. A large part of my happiness, present and future, seems locked into the presence of another woman in my life.
I am an Orthodox Christian and that makes it very hard to not like women, struggle with them, and often wonder about them. The Virgin Mary lies slightly off center near the very core of our devotions, liturgical prayers, and saintly intercessions, and dead center in our theology. Without the womb of Mary, there is no Incarnate Christ. Our hagiography and hymnology extols her virtues, her inner beauty, her outer radiance, her submission to God, her purity: her very example as the prime of womanhood. I look at her, Mary, the Theotokos (in English, the Bearer of God) and I'm beyond confused. I put the hagiography and Scripture in context, but still she really does take the cake. She really is this untouched epitome of womanhood. I remember conducting midnight praises in church and looking at her icon. I would think to myself, the women I know are nothing like you, St. Mary.
I've wondered why a lot of the women I've met recently were unable to be honest with me. I showed them my interest with both words and actions. I'm not one to shy away from making the effort; I don't heed blindly the advice of modern magazines geared towards men. Swingers to me is a funny film with advice you laugh at rather than follow. The principles I glean from that film and the subculture of man-power (treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen, cocky-funny) empower me more as a man: respect yourself, don't be clingy, have your own life, develop a strong personality, develop your life separate from the affirmation of a woman.