Random

When a woman friend says to me, “I hate men,” or something similar, one part of me cringes for all men and, I confess, instantly examines every interaction I’ve ever had with this specific woman if not all women. Another assumes, likely for my own sense of self-worth, that in this statement is an implicit “Not all men,” or that it isn’t about specific men but about a system in which men are the beneficiaries and in which I, as a man, benefit whether I choose to or not, or that for the moment, at least, my own maleness is not germane to what she is saying, or even, perhaps, for the purpose of this discussion, that I am an honorary woman.

That’s all right, then.