Who says men suck? asks a woman

Men don’t suck – by Jennifer Armstrong/Sirens Magazine

My first crippling crush—which, in seventh grade, counts for love—was on the president of the student council, an honor roll all-star with deep blue eyes and adorable freckles who was shy with the girls, oblivious to his more physical charms, and clumsy with a compliment (“um, you look way better in person than you do in your yearbook photo”) but sincere. My first true love arrived in my sophomore year of high school with a hell of a head of sandy hair and some serious aqua eyes, but, more importantly, the awkwardly sweet disposition of a science geek: He knew he couldn’t buy a good gift to save his life, but he gave them anyway; he had a tough time saying “I love you,” but his “I wish you didn’t have to go home yet” was enough for me. And my first big love—the one I almost married—stuck with me through the 10 toughest years of my life (commonly known as one’s 20s), through bouts with recurring panic attacks and several rounds of paying off my staggering credit card debt, among other crises.

These were not perfect guys, and there were a few bad ones sprinkled here and there. But the bad was few and far between, which means, mostly, that I am lucky. However, I’m of the mind that we make at least a little of our own luck. And more than a few girlfriends have asked me, “Why do you get all the good ones?”, which means there must be some explanation (besides “because I’m awesome, duh”). I believe it is this: I freaking love men.

Yes, some are emotional fuckwits (some women are, too). And they all can be a little mystifying (God knows we can, too). But really, aren’t a lot of them lovely creatures when it comes down to it? The way they often buy us pretty things just because they think we’re pretty, or help us move furniture just because it makes them feel strong, or try to be witty just to hear us laugh. They go to baseball games with us, buy us beer, push us on swings at the park, dance with us. They are even trained from birth to open doors for us, pay for our food and beverages, and generally make the first move … and these days, they’re also trained to respect our opinions and make sure we come first. The good ones are, anyway.

I happen to believe, incidentally, that the “good ones” are plentiful. But you wouldn’t know it from the culture at large. It’s perfectly accepted in the post-feminist world to joke about the woman wearing the pants in the family—even though in a lot of cases, she’s a domineering, soul-crushing bitch, and it’s hardly funny. We’re far past taking men down a few notches in the name of fighting patriarchy. And, frankly, if you’re wondering why you can’t find a good man, I’d suggest you start by waking up to the fact that you’re surrounded by them—so if anyone’s to blame, it might be you. (If you’re wondering why you can’t make it work with a man, that’s another story, and it’s called “Modern Relationships Do Kinda Suck.”)

Our disrespect for heterosexual men is astonishing: We apparently believe it takes a team of gay men several days to set any given straight dude straight. There are books about “how to fix your husband.” As therapist Marty Friedman, author of “Men in Marriage,” says: “Men feel that they’re always wrong and they don’t know what to do. They just know that they’re criticized a lot.”

Even more astonishing still? How brilliantly we’ve socialized our men to go along with all this. “There hasn’t been a battle between the sexes,” says Warren Farrell, author of “Women Can’t Hear What Men Don’t Say.” “There’s been a war in which only one side has shown up. Men’s cowardice has prevented them from showing up because they’re so addicted to female sexuality.”

Now, Farrell and others who have led a pro-man movement of sorts, such as Rutgers University anthropology professor Lionel Tiger , have also taken their share of criticism, much of it fair. I am, for instance, still very much in favor of college rape seminars (I gave a few myself in my day) and women’s studies programs (I did a minor in that, actually). And God knows we still need feminism—but wouldn’t it be nice if we concentrated less on villifying your average American guy and a little more on fighting, say, the widespread oppression of women abroad or violence against women everywhere ? We need men to help us rally against the horrible stuff … and they need us to lend the voice of reason to the pro-man side of things.

Why should we rally to their defense? Because it’s well-documented in the public discourse that, as last year’s trend-tracking book “The Future of Men” notes, the “female’s need for the male … is tied to biological function rather than the provision of food, shelter, protection, or even comfort.” Point being that, as far as modern society is concerned, the answer to Maureen Dowd’s titular query “Are Men Necessary?” is, quite simply: no.

Still, we insist on bashing them for our amusement. “Men suck,” we say over drinks with our girlfriends when our latest romance hasn’t played out exactly according to our fantasies, but that sentiment cuts deeper than your average tipsy girl-bonding conversation. “We use the term ‘misogynist’ to describe someone who dislikes women and has no respect for them, but today we need to popularize the term ‘misandrist’ to describe women who think of men in very negative terms,” says Christina Hoff Sommers, author of “The War Against Boys” (and also no stranger to feminist criticism). “Yes, there are Neanderthals. But to confuse them with the ethical majority of men is, well, sexist—misandrist.”

Though I’ve uttered the blasphemous “men suck” a few times myself—it’s so much more succinct than saying, for instance, “I’m terrified of my feelings for him and don’t know what to do about it”—I like guys far too much to truly believe it. I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t have friends who were boys. And when puberty hit, those tingly feelings just felt like a bonus: I could play video games with them and make out with them when we were through! In my adulthood, I’ve come to believe that there is nothing in this world like the distinctly masculine charms of strong arms wrapped around me, stubble rubbing my cheek a bit raw, a baritone in my ear, a down-and-dirty guy discussion about anything from “Lost” to baseball.

My faith in men is only reinforced by the guys beyond my dating pool: Two of my closest girlfriends are currently preparing to marry men who give me faith in the idea of finding a perfect match, even during my own darkest romantic-life hours. Another friend has been married for some time to a guy who—and this is even more impressive—makes me believe in marriage, despite having fled from my own engagement not that long ago. Even my little sister, 10 years my junior, has herself one hell of a fella, not to mention our brother, a 23-year-old who’s a true gem—and both of those guys give me plenty of hope for the generations to come. They’re making ‘em better all the time, girls.

I propose that we start fresh with one simple idea: that men don’t suck. We have to acknowledge that we are, essentially, lucky, lucky bitches—we are living in a golden age of guys. The males of our generation have been raised such that there are as many nice dudes as there are wonderful women. Yes, the idea that guys are mostly good does not provide nearly as much occasion for self-pity or bonding with girlfriends by complaining about that crazy other gender. But it does open us up to the possibility of sharing a few beers with a cute best friend whom we can take to bed afterwards, which sounds like nothing short of heaven to me.

These days, we women are inundated with advice about how to get a man. There are hundreds—maybe even thousands—of books on the subject, and every women’s magazine every month devotes significant space to tips, tips, and more tips. We’re taught how to catch them, keep them, use them, trick them, manipulate them, please them, conquer them—how to, basically, achieve them. Because that’s what our generation of girls does, right? We kick ass. We have accomplishments to check off. Men are just one more thing on our to-do lists.

But what if instead, we started by liking them? What if we achieved equality not by dominating them, but by partnering with them? What if we accepted them just as they are? What if we didn’t try to “fix” them?

My answer: We’d have the best damn relationships possible—the kind where you can discuss important world issues with a man you genuinely like, dissect pop culture with him, laugh with him … and then have some great sex with him, too. The kind where you haven’t tricked him or manipulated him into anything, so he loves you just as you are. And you love him in all of his silly, stupid, infuriating, intriguing, awe-inspiring masculinity.

(Jennifer Armstrong is the co-founder and editorial director of SirensMag.com.)