Do I Hate Men?

                I don’t hate men.

                For real, I don’t.  I grew up with a father whom I adored despite being profoundly flawed.  I am blessed to know many amazing, talented, considerate men whose entire lives have been about giving to others.

                I’m not quite sure where people got the idea that I hate men.  But I was accused of it last night in a discussion on a friend’s Facebook by a former classmate I haven’t seen in at least twenty-five years.  To be honest, this is the first time I can remember having a conversation with him ever.  I know who he is because my parents bought our house from his family in 1978, but we were both small children then.  I was peripherally aware of him having a crush on me in high school, because everyone told me.  I can recall at least one painfully awkward encounter in the hallway when he deliberately knocked my books out of my arms in an obvious attempt to break the ice and have an interaction with me.  That move was straight out of Parker Lewis Can’t Lose or Saved By the Bell. It was the early nineties equivalent of accidentally on purpose sending someone a text.

                My point is, I barely knew him.  Our only connection was we went to the same schools and he lived in my house when he was a baby.

                And yet his exact words were, “I forgot how much you hate men.”

                Huh?  My impulse was to fire back, “Why, because I wouldn’t date you in high school?” 

                Which, would have been hitting somewhat below the belt, because 1) he never asked me out 2) Even if he did, I wouldn’t have said yes and that would have been because I have issues, not because I hate men or there was anything wrong with him.  Hated myself, more like.

                I chose not to dignify that comment with a response.

                I’m not sure exactly what was behind that remark, but I know his view is shared by others.  For some reason, people hear “feminist” and automatically think “ball buster,” or “man-hater,” and it’s unfathomable to me.  Wanting equal rights for women doesn’t mean taking rights for men away.  Yet a certain group of men persist in regarding feminists with fear and suspicion.

                I don’t hate men.  I despise a certain subset of men.  Toxic males.  Men who think women are disposable, who abuse women, think we’re little more than slaves and that our value is directly proportional to how much pleasure we provide them. 

                To be fair, I despise toxic males and the women who love them.  If you’re a woman and you find yourself defending rapists (*cough* Bill Cosby* cough*) I think you need to do some serious  introspection.

                And speaking of the self-hatred thing, it’s no secret that I tend to gravitate towards dating the exact type of man I abhor, which is a recipe for disaster.  Men who customarily treat women like shit are not suddenly motivated to change their ways for me. Nor do we have anything in common.

                I don’t hate an entire gender.  I hate bullies.  People who enjoy hurting others for no rational reason.   And I hate female bullies just as much as males.  Probably more, if I were to be brutally honest, which is a bit messed up.

                We are fighting for our nation’s soul.  You know the country has issues when you go on the 48 Hours site and people are advocating for rapists and serial killers.  We’ve somehow lost our way.  We forgot the difference between right and wrong, and really, it’s simple.

                If you deliberately set out to abuse, mistreat, and hurt others, you’re wrong.

                Hate men? Not me.  I hate bad people.  In that, I’m an equal opportunity hater.