I don’t want my long hair, pretty green eyes, with ( no! I do not have on mascara. ) eyelashes, skinny figure, undersized t-shirt, hip shake too much when I walk confuse anybody. I am a manly man.
Within this sissy frame, obviously rib laden chest lies a heart that beats to the drum of a native American ritual dancing wildness. It pumps an ever cascading supply of untamedness that a herd of wild mustangs have yet to grasp. If danger lurks about, I will seek it out. If adventure abounds, there I will be found. If a damsel be in distress, I will show her who is best. I am a manly man.
Because I don’t flush, and I leave the lid up.
I drive a 1988 Ford Pick-up truck. Girls don’t break up with me, I break up with them first. ( Except the last time, it didn’t really work out like that… ) I don’t shave the hair on my face ( Because I still can’t grow facial hair yet… ) But when I can, I won’t, because beards are tough.
I fart, burp, and spit when I want, not caring who’s nearby. Disrespect my momma, and I will punch you in the eye. I am a manly man.
Or am I? I tell my guy friends that I love ‘em. And sometimes, sometimes I even hug ‘em. Not because I’m gay, but because I love ‘em. And when I watched Bambi, I cried. And when my Mema gets mad, I still run and hide.
Like David, I wanna be a man after God’s own heart. And I’m not there yet, but I’m past the start. And when people talk, I try to listen. A spirit of compassion, that’s my vision. Surely I am a manly man. I want to be loved and have love and give love.
And not just that romantic kind either. Although I am looking for that beauty.
Not helpless, but wants to be rescued. The damsel in distress, man, woman, myth, true. I will fight for her, climb the highest tower for her, love her, share with her, delight in her, be her warrior, her protector.
She will be my crown and I will be hers. My masculinity will be passed down and affirmed to my sons. And each of my daughters will know they are lovely, and deserving of authentic romance.
Society tells me all day long that I’ve defined manhood completely wrong. But you ask any honest man, and he will agree. You ask any honest woman, and she too will see, that I am a manly man.