The Hypocrisy of the Nice Guy Angle

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The traditional male is supposed to be a little aggressive. There is something women love about swagger, the confident risk taking persona, and maybe because these men get things done. The bigger bolder man is going to give them more of what they want. They are the star athlete, they can dance, and (by outward appearance at least) are greatly endowed with those attributes most pleasurable. It doesn’t matter if he is entitled, arrogant, emotionally distant or otherwise a complete douche, nor that he’ll be bald with a potbelly at fourth, in his youth he’s that picture of masculine strength that immature women crave.

Success is a positive feedback loop. Even the tall handsome dude is going to have some approach anxieties. However, that self-talk goes a bit easier for the guy who has had his arm squeezed by an ogling female admirer or has never been turned down for a date. Men are not the choosers. Women make themselves available to the desirable men, they smile and laugh for him, will literally crawl into their pick-up truck, all he needs to do is make the move and very soon this flirtation leads into intimacy and meant to be. It didn’t require any faith or great courage on his part. He barely had a speaking role. Like men confuse beauty for virtue, women love that strong silent type for the character they can project onto his frame.

Outside looking in? The Nice Guy. That guy never picked first for any physical contest. The one who is a little timid or shy, awkward or clumsy, the late bloomer, and generally stayed out of the spotlight. He might have been on the receiving end of bullying or, at the very least, was disgusted by the insensitivity and crude sexuality of his male peers. If he’s lucky, women like him because he’s sweet and sincere, respectful and never a threat. While she gets the benefit of his companionship, he is lives under the delusion that if the girl simply gets to know him then she’ll see his golden heart and move him out of the friendzone. It never happens. And, worse, he betrays platonic assurance that gave him access to her.

I ran into this fair description of the infamous ‘Nice Guy’ while looking into the 9 to 10 attractiveness scale:

Recently, women took to Reddit to tell their scariest stories about “Nice Guys” — what our own Miles Klee described as a dude “who claims he only wants to be a woman’s friend, then gets mad about being ‘friendzoned’ and cruelly judges her for dating anyone who isn’t him.” The Nice Guy believes he lives outside of sexism and toxic masculinity, yet his schtick still hinges on the idea that basic decency toward a woman entitles him to sexual access.

The ‘Nice Guy’ wants the same things that any other male wants. But, because he is not 5′-10″ (or over) nor charismatic enough to gain her love, he plays the only angle that he has and that is to be ‘better’ than those other superficial losers. Except the reality is that he’s no different in what he actually wants and that is a relationship that ends in more than polite chatter. The whole thing of dating and romance is crass (a desire for sex hidden under a layer of sophistication) yet, in the cases of attractive men, the base desire for sex is categorized as wanted attention. However, in the case of ‘Nice Guys’ this desire is only ever a betrayal of friendship.

It is one of those all around loathsome things. Not being one of those cool sexy men doesn’t mean that a man wants to remain a celibate. However, to the women who wanted him as their pet rather than a partner, his bitterness and jealousy only confirms his status as an inferior man. In her mind, he was simply to take his place as supporting cast, the enuch to her queenly court, and that’s his only value to her. He’s the sounding board for her complaints, not even really a human with natural hopes to her, and therefore when he imagines himself as more she is appalled. How dare he be a sexual creature like her and the men that she prefers? How dare he mislead and be like those guys who she would allow in her pants!

I mean, she’s right, had she had an inkling that he ever sexual desires she would never have given him the time of day. Women might be best known for their nurture, but they sure can turn the cold shoulder to a guy who doesn’t meet their qualifications. And, again, who can blame them? If the top tier of attractive women could never say “no” or deploy that RBF shield, they would never be able to escape all of the unwanted male attention.

And yet, I’m also sympathetic to those who play that ‘Nice Guy’ angle, in so much that it is not entirely a lie and that they do often hear all of the complaints from women. Why did she go right from that abusive jerk to the womanizer who obviously only sees her as a fresh piece of meat? Why wouldn’t she at least give him a try, acknowledge his passion as valid, and stop denying him what she so freely gives to these others? It is insanely frustrating, especially in this age of equal opportunity politics, as his choice in stature and personality is no different than skin color. In the end his indignation is the most dignifying thing he has left after the rest of the world, including the ‘compassionate’ kind, have left him in the dust and trampled under their own ambitions.

The real problem with the ‘Nice Guy’ is that underneath his self-righteous facade lives a hypocrite. He lives in denial of his own sexuality, as a means to attain access to female attention, and yet is still pursuing the beauty queens like the jocks. He may have no choice. His lack of confidence could be the result of many rejections or simply disposition. It is entirely unfair too that his better qualifies are overlooked as well. And yet the only answer ever is for him not to be like those who are superficial and find one of those many women (truly his own counterpart) who aren’t the 9.5 on the 1-10 attractiveness scale. Because his sanctimoniousness and toxic entitled attitude is certainly not going to secure love.

The harsh reality is that we all, whether we hide it in religious babble or sophisticated explanation, want the same things. There are traits universally attractive and some are born with more of them. It’s not fair. It is most definitely superficial. But we’re all guilty and would be better to take responsibility for our own part. My own beautiful sister remains single, often overlooked by those guys pursuing those perfect 10s (who often lack character despite their angelic appearance) and has as much right as any guy to be upset. So maybe the first step is a little honesty? Both men and women are absolutely superficial and willing to overlook many things if someone scratches that itch. Love may emerge, but nothing after puberty is absolutely pure.

Note, not at all saying that truly platonic friendships do not exist between men and women. Many of my best friends are women. But to be in denial of our base level sexual attraction is the beginning of spiral into insanity, it is self-deception, and will eventually come bleeding out. We need to be real. People don’t date or marry as some purely spiritual experience, so why would our friendships be any different? We spend time with those who we are attracted to and often it is more complicated than mere common interests. It is a matter of maturity to a) fully acknowledge our sexual attraction to another person and b) also be completely fine with the friendship.

Why I Gave Up My Mother For Lent

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I’ve been going to my parent’s house more often since I’ve been off the road. It sure beats spending time by myself in an empty little house or eating alone in a restaurant. And, besides that, my mom’s cooking is unmatched in the world. The usual routine was to have a meal during the week and also come home for Sunday dinner.

My plans to “leave and cleave” never came to fruition. All of my closest friends eventually married and disappeared from my life. My siblings (especially the married ones) are very independent and not usually available. Thus there is little other choice for meaningful social interaction during the week besides home. And, since my dad isn’t much for talking about much besides work, the bulk of my time talking is with my mother—who is quite similar to me in personality and temperament.

Going back a step…

Apparently, as a child, I was the only one who would cry when my mom would step out for a minute with the garbage. This separation anxiety never fully went away either. Even as an adult I’ve had a terrible fear of losing my mom. That could simply be because I’ve remained single and (besides a few online mothers who have been there for me) have really only had one significant nurturing person in my life.

In the past couple years, in particular, as my only opportunities for regular meaningful social interaction at church dried up and marriage remained unattainable, my mother was all I had. My mother is the one who has always been there for me through thick and thin. I love her despite our getting under each other’s skin sometimes.

Too much of a good thing?

As the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt. That is suggested in Scripture where too frequently visiting neighbors is advised against: “Too much of you, and they will hate you.” (Proverbs 25:17) It does seem too much of even a good thing is bad. And, at very least, the law of diminishing returns may eventually apply to any activity and one would be better doing something else with their time.

Anyhow, with the thoughts of my over-dependency in mind, and my own terror over the thought losing this person who has been in my life longer than anyone else, and considering that Lenten season is about sacrifice, it became clear what to do:

If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26 NIV)

It is easy for those born into Christian homes to treated this teaching of Jesus as hyperbole or a command only necessary for new converts, but what if Jesus did mean it to be taken literally?

Would you literally give up your mother and father to follow after Jesus?

My mother, while imperfect as I am, was never the smothering type. Late into middle school (possibly the start of my 8th grade year) things weren’t going very well and I begged my mom to homeschool me. She denied the request. And, despite my discomfort with her decision not to give me what I wanted, she made the right call. Because, even though it is impossible to know where I would have ended up otherwise, I did eventually break past some of my shyness and am glad for that experience rare for a conservative Mennonite.

Mary and the sacrifice of motherhood…

I’ve been listening to a lot of Jordan Peterson lately and his contrast of the “devouring mom” with Mary (the mother of Jesus) caught my attention. Interestingly enough, both feminists and patriarchal men do not give Mary her due because both undervalue female contribution—both see masculine roles as superior and therefore discredit the importance of motherhood.

Mary, as a mother, was willing to sacrifice her son to the world. In fact, the first miracle of Jesus recordes in Scripture, was at the prompting of his mother:

On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.” “Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.” They did so… […] What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. (John 2:1‭-‬8‭, ‬11 NIV)

That is an extremely interesting exchange between a mother and son. Based in his initial response, the miracle was out of the timeline that Jesus had in mind. Mary, for her part, totally ignores his “my hour has not yet come” protest and, without further comment, moves on to tell the servants to do what her son tells them to do.

It is important to note that the choice of “woman” by translators could give an incorrect sound of rudeness. According to various sources, the word he used was more similar to “ma’am” and might suggest he was distancing himself a bit from his mom or asserting some independence. But, despite being pushed outside of his comfort zone, he complied readily with his mother’s request.

Mary did what a good mother does for her son. She gave him a little nudge, she showed her confidence in him—first in ignoring his initial response and then by her instruction to the servants to follow his lead. And because of that we have this wonderful example of motherhood.

Before Jesus could become the ultimate sacrifice to the world he first needed a human mother willing to nurture him and then give him up. In some ways Mary shared equally in the sacrifice made by God. She, like God, sacrificed her own son—the child who grew in her womb—to be tortured and killed.

My mom…

My mom, like Mary, has always been my biggest encourager. Yes, like all good moms, there was always a push and pull. She would probably be happier if her other children not moved so far away and I may have happier to stay in her home until married. But without her push I’m not sure how much I would’ve accomplished with my life. It because of my mother that I opened a savings account as a child, it is because of her that I bought my house a decade ago, she has encouraged my writing, and her overall push has always been for my independence. She has empowered rather than enslaved me.

My mom had a good balance of empathy and necessary toughness. Unlike some parents, both she and my dad always tried to be fair (perhaps too fair) in how they presented me to the world. For better worse, we aren’t a family that is much for overselling ourselves. If asked, I would probably say that my parents are average and not without their flaws. Yet, in true fairness, saying my parents are average is a vast understatement—they are extraordinary people and I’m very grateful for them both.

So, anyhow, I have given up many things dear to me in the past year and, Lord willing, I will be completing the transition from Mennonite to Orthodox this year.

However, for all the once important things I’ve sacrificed in an unbending quest for the truth, I’ve not yet broken my dependency on my mother. My mom said goodbye to her mom last spring and, with my budding romance, it is bound to happen sooner or later—that is why I gave up my mom for Lent.