Wounded Boys Become Wounded Men

Friday night I watched a documentary, (when I think about it, I actually watch a lot of documentaries…). It’s called ‘The mask you live in’ and it’s about what it means to be a man, society’s and our view of what masculinity is and how the pressure to “be a man” can do a lot of damage. Just as a lot of girls are feeling the pressure to be feminine, skinny and all that shit, boys are having some maxresdefaultissues of their own, and this movie kinda explores those, the reasons behind them, the result of them etc.

I actually really liked it and found it very interesting to watch. This whole thing with how the words “be a man”, “grow some balls, “don’t cry” and “don’t be a pussy” are some of the most destructive words a guy can hear, I thought was really interesting to hear about.

Though this movie is an exploration of American masculinity, I could see myself in a lot of the things that were being said, and at some points I was actually rather touched, (as in I felt like I could cry but I didn’t).

It also reminded me of this song I’m obsessed with a the moment called ‘Fragile’, because the first line in the song is basically “Crazy to think that a man can’t hurt”. (I thought it was fitting to mention:P) Also, go listen to it and fall in love with it now, (or preferably when you’re done reading this post, or maybe even while you’re reading it. Huh…)

At one point in the movie, this group of guys at around 15-16 years I think, sat down together with this teacher, who was also a youth advocate on the school, and they did an exercise. They all got a piece of paper with a picture of a mask on, and the teacher told them to, on the front, write what they thought represented them, things they let people see, and on the back they had to write the things they didn’t let people see. The things that were behind the mask.
As expected the words on the fronts were “funny”, “happy”, “kindness”, “smile”,
“friendly” and in general positive words. On the backs it was a little different. Words like “sadness”, “pain”, “anger” and “fear” kept repeating themselves, and I really related to that.
I’ve always had trouble expressing my feelings, (though I’ve gotten a lot better), and I would always, (I still do sometimes), suppress the pain, sadness and anger to the point where I was physically hurting.
I’d mastered how to fool people, I knew exactly which mask to put on and how to act. The only person who has always been able to see through my bullshit has been my mom. She’d always crack my tough exterior, and I’d end up crying for hours. The lump in my throat would then finally disintegrate and I could breathe for a while.
(I don’t know how this turned into the sob story of my life, but I regret nothing:P)

The movie is great, so if you have the time, you should definitely go watch it:)

One of my favorite quotes from the movie:

He wears a mask and his face grows to fit it” – George Orwell


11 thoughts on “Wounded Boys Become Wounded Men

  1. Hi there, thought I’d take a peek at your blog and I’m impressed! The documentary sounds very interesting. It’s weird how we seem to relate to a lot of what we see on TV and thats what this place is for to be yourself and make it personable as you like! At of the day its like a ‘mask’ really?

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  2. This was really interesting, I think many people concentrate a lot on the pressures of women in society and the struggles that men go through are often left in their shadows. I’ll definitely watch that documentary!

    Like

  3. Interesting post! As a girl, facing the pressure from our society, I sometimes wonder how much of it is actually in my head. Documentaries like this highlight only the surface of the issues. Sure we have many outside factors that encourage certain types of behavior but again what about the internal struggle. It saddens me that more often then not we highlight only women’s issues and ignore anything men go through. If we are to truly be an “equal society,” then we need to highlight all sides not just some of this and none of that.

    Liked by 1 person

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