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Men suck at emotions. Even now as I’m trying to write this, something in the back of my male psyche is saying *what are you a fagggggggg?*

We grew up believing that “real” men like James Bond and Conan the Barbarian were too busy kicking ass and banging chicks to self-reflect on why they would sometimes cry in the shower. Normal things such as crying and expressing certain emotions are seen as being “weak” in a guy’s mind. Men tend to repress their emotions and mask them with an *everything is under control* attitude. Why do men do this? Feminist Camille Paglia has an interesting theory:

“A woman simply is, but a man must become. Masculinity is risky and elusive. It is achieved by a revolt from woman, and is confirmed only by other men. Feminist fantasies about the ideal “sensitive” male have failed. Manhood coerced into sensitivity is no manhood at all.”

This is an unfortunate reality in our society. Men are pressured to not show any signs of emotional sensitivity for fear of being called a “pussy” and being seen as less “manly”. We are constantly judged for not being “masculine” enough. To give you an idea what im talking about, heres another quote:

“A real gentlemen, even if he loses everything he owns, must show no emotion. Money must be so far beneath a gentleman that it is hardly worth troubling about.” – Fyodor Dostoevsky

So if you’re standing outside in the cold watching your house burn down along with all of your belongings and memories, just know that the author of Crime and Punishment would call you a pussy if he saw a tear roll down your cheek.

I’m going to say from my personal experience, Asian men are really bad with emotions. For Asians, life is all about honoring your mother and father, being “successful”, and making babies. There is no room for depression, suicidal thoughts, or existentialism. Maybe you’re sad and you dont know why. Asian parents would probably call you a fag and tell you to go study. If they’re korean, they’d also tell you to pray about it.

I remember being very sensitive when I was very young.  I cried over nothing most of the time. I could cry you a fucking ocean.

I was such a crybaby that my mother would actually beat me for crying, always reminding me that “boys don’t cry”. Apparently, the beatings worked because I don’t really remember crying or being as sensitive after the age of five. I taught myself how to repress my feelings and by the time I was in high school, the sensitive, shy, innocent child became a hard, cold, cynical asshole. I forgave her as I got older and we’re cool now, but the damage was done. The thing about repressing your feelings is that it’s always going to leave a mark.

I had years and years of built up unacknowledged feelings as a young adult and I didn’t know what to do. I was emotionally stunted/handicapped. I was able to talk about everything and anything except for when it came to emotions. I would avoid having conversations about my feelings, I would always pretend that nothing was bothering me and then call you a pussy for trying to get me to open up. I’ve hurt too many people that I didn’t mean to hurt because of it. People that I genuinely liked, people that I cared about were pushed away because of my unemotional assholeness. Every single romantic interest I’ve had in my early 20’s was thwarted by my own doing. I would subconsciously sabotage every potential relationship so that I wouldn’t get my emotions involved. I would be very distant and aloof with women so that they wouldn’t be able to establish a deep and meaningful emotional connection with me. I realize now that my refusal to have an emotional connection with someone was due to my fear of being vulnerable. It was a twisted defensive mechanism set up so that I may stay single and alone. Those women will probably never want to talk to me again. And that sucks.

Then, I popped a molly (MDMA).

A lot of my friends use recreational drugs pretty regularly so it was always within reach. I took it at a house party on New Year’s Eve of 2012. A good friend of mine came up to me, minutes before the countdown, grabbed my hand and said, “here, take this.” I didn’t care much for counting down to 2013, so when everyone else was drunkenly screaming “5…4…3…” I was in the bathroom swallowing a capped pill.

About half an hour later, I’m feeling strange in a good way and i can’t stop talking. I just started to feel really good and excited about nothing at all. Everything felt amazing to do. Talking, dancing, even sitting on a couch felt like heaven. Later that night, I ended up sitting in a circle with my friends talking shit. I felt a huge lock inside of my soul become undone. The urge to express my feelings was overwhelming, feelings buried deep down started to crawl back out of their graves. I don’t know why, but things that I would have a hard time facing in private, ended up being shared with my friends. There was a sense of freedom in being able to talk about things you didn’t want to even acknowledge. Things like being alone, not being able to care, never falling in love. My friends were taken aback by what i was saying, but they were glad that i was having a discussion about my feelings for the first time in my life. I felt a feeling of being lighter after that night. Taking MDMA, was like having the worlds best therapy session while listening to house music.

After that experience, I would start to regularly self-reflect on my emotions and talk about my feelings without the help of drugs. I was learning to feel again. It was a slow healing process for me, but now, I am able to honestly and openly communicate my thoughts and feelings with ease. Women don’t hate me for being such a cold hard bastard anymore. I envision a new kind of masculinity where men can openly talk about things and issues that make them vulnerable, and can still be looked upon as men.

This isn’t a long commercial for molly though. It just forced me to open up about my emotions and if you’re like me, maybe you need something to force you to open up too. There are a lot of options out there like therapy, hypnotism, meditation, spiritual retreats, yoga? Or just force your mouth to express yourself kind of like how you would jump into a pool to learn how to swim.

Don’t die at the age of 60 because you’ve been suppressing 60 years of sadness. Die at the age of 75 due to a massive heart attack like a well adjusted American. Asians should be allowed to feel too.

The views expressed on this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of Gumship. We do not condone the usage of drugs or yoga.

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