Early on in my life, I was compelled to develop the ability to take criticism semi-graciously. Why? Because growing up I was always surrounded by a lot of women, and there is something about the nature of a woman which creates this insatiable desire to fix a man. It’s actually remarkable, men don’t really care about other man’s faults as long as it does not affect them. But a woman finds a man’s problems to be her problems. When a woman sees a man, she sees not a man but a project. Some people go through life and create beautiful paintings; some people create beautiful sculptures. Women create beautiful men. In that vein, when a woman is engaged in some type of intimate relationship with a man, be it spousal, platonic, romantic, familial, there is this inexorable, intensely spiritual desire to refine him, dignify him, dress him, correct him, check him, expect of him, inspect him, suspect him.
So I was fortunate to grow up with a lot of strong women in my life. Very strong. Very very strong. Maybe unnecessarily strong. I remember I used to be very sensitive and defensive when I would get critiqued. And I was getting critiqued almost all the time. At one point in my life, it dawned on me that I can’t stop a women’s inextinguishable fire to analyze and critique, so I might as well try to actually listen and not daydream when they are pontificating to me.
To get to that point, and do it graciously, which is still a work in progress, I wondered why it was that I was so defensive in the first place. I realized that I took women’s complaints personally. For some reason, on a subconscious level, I felt that because I am wrong I am bad; because I am flawed, means I am broken; because I make mistakes, I am defined by those mistakes. Because of this error-ridden thought process, I had to place myself on a pedestal of perfection and shield myself from any daggers of criticism.
Then I got over myself, which again, I am still working on, and will probably work on this for the rest of my life. I got over the notion that maybe I am not a god, I cannot be perfect, I will make mistakes, sometimes HUGE mistakes. But I will not be defined by them, I can and will grow. Realizing that I am not and will never be perfect was empowering. It helped me be honest with my own flaws and cultivated an attitude of curiosity in people’s critique of me.
Which leaves me to the ladies in my life. I realized that even though a women’s desire to correct a man can be profound and come from a deep place, it also stems from a misconception. Women literally think men are god. They think we are perfection incarnate, glorious beings with every fiber of our being designed for greatness.
This is a huge error that I always correct when a women critique’s me. So, in the event a woman mentions with disappointment a flaw I have, I mention to them that they are only disappointed because they think I am A ——> Z and everything in between. I gently let them know there is no need to be upset; nor complain; nor make faces; definitely no need to roll their eyes. I am simply not perfect. And I am not a god. I know it’s a shock to them as it was a shock to me. But life calls for honesty. And life calls for a lot of courage. And I beseech them to forge the courage to see me a little bit less than perfect. And by doing so, they need not be so disappointed.
2022