In Defense of the Sensitive Man

I originally posted this piece on my old blog, My Name Is Not Matt, in August 2011. I was humbled that it was picked up—and modified slightly—by The Root. Have we made progress on this issue in the last seven years? I don’t know.

__________________________________

In the past couple of weeks, a friend (who is gay) told me that two people asked him if I was gay. The common thread seems to be that I’m considered “sensitive”—more sensitive than one would expect a straight male to be. (More on this later.)

I didn’t have a knee-jerk “Hell no! I’m a women-lovin’ straight male” reaction. Instead, I was curious to get to the root of the issue: sensitive men. Funnily enough, I’ve been thinking about writing this piece for quite some time. If nothing else, I can credit the indirect question—“Is he gay?”—for prodding me to get these thoughts out of my head.

For the better part of a year, I’ve been thinking about gender roles. I’ve tried to explore why I get so annoyed when a guy is put down for being sensitive. The term sensitive is used so generically that you’re left to think men aren’t supposed to express or display even a modicum of it. We’re supposed to be hard.

The flaw in that line of thinking is that it treats sensitivity as weakness—as something that makes you less of a man.

Well…I’m calling bullshit on that.

I would argue that a sensitive man is actually a strong individual. A sensitive man has enough security and confidence that being compassionate—or even vulnerable—doesn’t feel like a threat.

Far too often, I hear the expression “You’re too sensitive.” It’s directed at both men and women. When it’s said to a woman, it can be an attempt to silence her emotions rather than deal with the issue. When it’s said to a man, it’s meant to deride him for caring: he’s being soft, going all Ralph Tresvant, acting like a little bitch (Superbad comes to mind). Oh—he’s acting gay.

It’s too convenient to label gay men as sensitive because it leans on the stereotype that (all) gay men are sensitive and effeminate. I’ve been around plenty of gay guys who are far from what I would deem sensitive. In fact, many gay guys are just that…guys. They can be dicks just like the next guy.

I almost think it’s funny that a gay guy would question whether I was gay because I’m sensitive. I think he may have been using that as a cover for what was in his head…but that’s another story.

Anyway, I feel like I’m drifting a bit. Maybe I’m venting because I’ve had more than a few rough patches in my life when I was derided for being sensitive. It’s worth clarifying what I mean by sensitive: taking an interest in others, being willing to listen more than talk, being empathic, and not having sex running through your head when interacting with a woman.

As with anything else, I’m sure there are limits. I’m not talking about people who fall to pieces. That’s the extreme end of the spectrum. Hypersensitivity? I don’t know. I don’t really want to slap a label on it.

A good friend once called me out for using the expression “You’re overreacting!” She said everyone is entitled to his or her own reaction, and it’s not for me to define it. So I won’t try to draw a line around what I deem “overly sensitive,” because that would be contradictory—and would defeat the point of this post.

Look up the definition of sensitive in Merriam-Webster. The definitions probably won’t surprise you, but it’s telling to look at the synonyms and antonyms.

Synonyms: delicate, fine, keen, perceptive, quick, acute, sharp
Antonyms: insusceptible, invulnerable, unexposed, unsusceptible

I’m sure there are times when people should be invulnerable. But in day-to-day interactions, being acute, perceptive, quick, sharp—or even delicate—seems like a more appealing and useful trait.

I think the way most of us have been conditioned from childhood to see gender roles is the culprit. Girls play with dolls and tea sets. Boys eat boogers and throw rocks. Girls wear pink…boys don’t. And if that line is crossed, boys get admonished to “stop acting like a girl.” It starts early.

The funny thing is, girls get conditioned with this bullshit, too. I’m not going to go deep into how it affects women, but that doesn’t mean I’m unaware—I’m just focusing on what I can speak to from personal experience.

For instance, though I don’t recall what led up to the encounter, something bad happened to me in college. I went to the dorm room of a woman I was interested in and confided in her. As we talked, I became more upset and eventually started to cry.

I don’t remember everything about the exchange, because what stands out is what happened the next day. I walked into the student center and sat down with some friends. It didn’t take long before one of them giggled and did a little “boo hoo” gesture. I asked what that was about, and one of the guys said, “Yeah, I heard you were over in ___’s room crying like a little bitch.”

Ugh.

I was mortified—but, honestly, I was more upset with the woman who sat with me as I unraveled. It wasn’t so much that she shared that I cried in her room. I was upset by the way she characterized it.

You see, guys aren’t supposed to cry. We aren’t expected to care enough to even reach that point. And when we do express concern, it’s supposed to be “masculine.” Cry, but only three tears, wiped from your eyes in a manly way. Don’t even think about sobbing.

Of course, crying and sobbing are at one end of the sensitivity spectrum. The other, more benign end is simply talking, listening, and sharing feelings.

I saw a tweet a few weeks back from a woman who said (paraphrasing), “I can’t stand sensitive dudes. If I wanted to sit around and talk about my feelings, I would’ve called one of my girlfriends. MAN UP!”

My first thought was that this woman is young—and that she is going to get exactly what she asked for in a partner: a hard, insensitive man. Then, when the guy treats her like shit, she’ll complain that he didn’t care and didn’t tend to her needs.

I see a lot of couples who go along with this rigid role-playing. The guys hang out with their guy friends—ironically talking about personal stuff, often griping about what they’re not getting from their significant others. But the conversation gets clipped if someone veers too far down a path paved with feelings. Meanwhile, women talk to their girlfriends about dreams and desires—both met and unmet—while the two partners go through the motions in the relationship.

Does that mean they don’t truly love each other? No. Most do. But I can’t help thinking how much deeper that love could be if they eliminated the gender-role buffers. So many couples don’t really know what’s going on emotionally with their significant others.

Don’t get me wrong: there are times I reach the point where I feel like there’s just too much talking. But when it comes to getting to the core of what’s going on with my wife, my son, my family members, or my friends, I need to listen and explore.

OK, I could honestly write about this for a long time, but I’ll bring it to a close.

I’m sure some people will read this and scream, “Man up!!” That’s OK. I’ve been slowly moving toward a place where I’m more confident and comfortable simply being who I am.

In my mind, there’s something perfectly normal about a non-self-righteous, sensitive, straight man.