A review by kierscrivener
I'm Afraid of Men by Vivek Shraya

4.0

“Why is my humanity only seen or cared about when I share the ways in which I have been victimized and violated?”

I absolutely loved this exploration of femininity and masculinity, of transition, of how good and bad pervade our notions, of boundaries and bodies in the queer community.

It is short, insightful and a should read, I feel it is a late 10s edition of We Should All Be Feminists, we've passed the age where in popular culture feminist is a bad word, but we have entered one where good intentions 'atone' and ignore harmful behaviour.

I also liked that she is not fully comfortable in her body when she was presenting as a man and now as a woman, and discusses how her queerness was seen as passport to sleep with anyone who wanted to or was attracted to men. And a 'no' was seen as anti lgbt.“Queerness is associated with freedom from boundaries.”

I am a huge fan of her habit of not referring to people by name but by pronouns, she did this as well in She of The Mountains (fiction), it adds us to the conversation and keeps any bias of name or identification out.

“When I was learning to be a man, I wish that instead of the coaching I received to take up space, I had been taught to be respectful of space."

Some quotes:
“Sexist comments, intimidation, groping, violating boundaries, and aggression are merely seen as "typical" for men. But "typical" is dangerously interchangeable with "acceptable".”

"I have always been disturbed by this transition, by the reality that often the only way to capture someone’s attention and to encourage them to recognize their own internal biases (and to work to alter them) is to confront them with sensational stories of suffering. Why is my humanity only seen or cared about when I share the ways in which I have been victimized and violated?”

“Why is being touch by strangers — strangers who refuse to identify themselves — a form of flattery?”

“When I was learning to be a man, I wish that instead of the coaching I received to take up space, I had been taught to be respectful of space. To be ever conscious of and ever grateful to those whose sacred land I inhabit. To be mindful of the space and bodies of others, especially feminine bodies. To never presume that I am permitted to touch the body of another, no matter how queer space. To give up or create space when I am afforded more than others.”


“This praise highlights another problem with the idea of the "good man"—the bar is ultimately a low one, and men are heralded every day for engaging in basic acts of domestic labour like washing dishes. It is this low bar that also renders the experiences I've shared unexceptional and therefore so often unnoticed. Sexist comments, intimidation, groping, violating boundaries, and aggression are seen as merely "typical" for men. But "typical" is dangerously interchangeable with "acceptable." "Boys will be boys," after all.”

“My friendship with you marks the first time in my adult life when a man not only makes me feel that I can offer what I've chosen to offer, but also that it will be welcomed.”

“If we want masculinity to be different, we must confront and tackle the baseline instead of longing for exceptions.”

“As important as it is to make these incidents visible by reporting them, sensationalizing and digesting these stories is also a form of social control, a reminder that I need to be afraid and to try to be as invisible as possible.”

“I didn't say 'I love you' because I wanted you to say it back. [...] It kinda bothers me that 'I love you' is treated like the destination in a relationship. I told you because that's how I feel and I wanted you to know.”

“I'm also afraid that the most prevalent response these stories will elicit is pity. Even worse, I'm afraid of the necessity of eliciting pity in order to generate concern or galvanize change.”