I don’t know if it’s being more actively feminist (Handmaiden’s Tale, Our Shared Shelf) or that I’m buzzing off Wonder Woman and Hidden Figures (see both!) or that Peter and I both acknowledged its role in causing him to break his foot (what a fucking idiot.) but I had a real moment where toxic masculinity was confusingly stupid and I really wanted to share.

I’ve finished my volunteering activity for [last] month. It was through the bank I work for, a couple coworkers and myself got coffee at a local shop after. We haven’t seen each other in a little while, so there’s some new fascination with my hair cut. I’ve grown out a top knot, and particularly in a bank, it’s an outlandish style. I like it. My coworkers are at least politely complimentary. It’s all good.

[Side note. I hate that I work in a culture that thinks getting a top knot is the CRAZIEST thing they’ve ever heard.]

Fast forward and the group has adjured to enjoy the rest of the day and for me that means writing in the coffee shop for a few hours. I sit on the patio; the sun beating down on a hot and noisy New York summer, filled with fashionably New Yorkers. Florals are in. Rompers. Couple of sun hats and all manner of shades.

I’m approached by a friendly looking guy in a baseball hat who starts to inquire about my hair. Now, he’s polite and inquisitive and I felt no bad vibes; happy to answer questions about where and how I get my hair cut. He’s peeked the top knot from the Insta feed but never knew how to tackle it. To be honest, I totally understand. I hate getting my hair cut. I find conversations with barbers difficult, mostly because I try very hard not to move my head, and I don’t want to distract them while they have shears near my ears. And before this cut, I never knew what I really wanted or how to ask. Like I used to want to just scream:

Just make me look good! Comeon! I know that’s a tall task for 25$ but isn’t that your job? I don’t know anything about my hair!

My own insecurities aside, I was happy to help and who doesn’t like talking about themselves? I’m hella conceited; let me fill you in on all my comings and goings.

But this guy is drops a quick line. To defend himself and justify his actions to me. “I’m not gay or anything.”

yo…what?

First off terrible timing. It [was] […I procrastinate a lot on these posts] Pride Month. Second, I am hella good looking to all sexual orientations, thank you very much. Getting approached by anyone especially as a guy is reassuring and flattering. And I’m picky who I tolerate for long periods of time anyway, gender is hardly going to be the only thing that I reject you for.

Also, what does either of our sexual orientations have to do with my hair? Were you afraid I was judging you or that you were judging me? Was it gay to approach and talk to a stranger? You can complement someone without always flirting. Trump is either exceptionally bad at it or he’s a creep. And dude, he would have given off more sexual tension.

Finally, if you were gay, and you were hitting on me, particularly for my hair; that would be deeply cheering. I’ve never been a fashionable or particularly confident person; and my awkwardness doubles when it comes to my own sexuality because: sex is hard, relationships are weird, and I constantly hover in horror between wtf-is-wrong-with-me and wtf-is-wrong-with-you. Having my own attractiveness reiterated by a stranger is cool and ego boosting. And my ego is my second favorite thing to stroke.

I’m not so mad at the guy. He barely dropped the line and I’m doubtful that he actually meant anything negative. More likely than anything, he just wanted to clarify and over communicate, and I wasn’t offended.

But what a fragile veneer of masculinity. So unconfident in his own sexual choices that he has to verbally remind me what they are not. Or that I give the slightest care either way.

We put this idea of what men have to be. Strong, tough, silent type. Dependable and totally sexually alluring and in control. It’s not always a bad thing either. I think men should strive to be independent and capable. As Zusak says through Linda in The Book Thief [amazing. Must read.] competence is sexy.

However, when that masculine stereotype becomes damaging or keeps you from being interested in what you’re curious about, be it sexuality or hairstyles, make up or cooking or music, sports to cars to ballet, even feminism, it’s no longer masculinity, it’s just boring. [Disclaimer: scientology does not count]

But seriously. Nobody gives a shit. Do you. Best advice I can give.