We kept our side of the deal

‘Study hard, work hard and you'll be successful’ — that's the formula that I and many of my generation were given. The rewards on the other side — happiness, fulfilment, wealth were tempting enough. 

And so we did. We upheld our part of the deal and went above and beyond, only to arrive and find out that the rules have changed mid game.

But did they. Or was it that I needed to work just a bit harder and a bit longer for it? 

I worked so hard, I invested so much. I built my life and my identity around it. How could I simply let go?

I didn't want to admit that I was sold a lie. I couldn't.

I spent years pleading with reality to grant me what I was promised. And I spent years demanding it from people and environments. To no avail.

I am not the only one who has been sold a lie. Men have been too.

Patriarchy made them a promise: as a system built for them, they would receive everything they ever wanted. They would have to make certain sacrifices and faithfully uphold it — but that was a small price to pay for what was coming.

They, like me, have kept their side of the bargain. 

And they, like me, didn't get all they were promised.

And they, like me, kept insisting that they receive it — not from the ones who made the promise but from the ones they thought they could get it from.

Being lied to is a hard experience to reconcile with. There's a lot of shame that comes with it: ‘why didn't I see it, am I stupid for believing it’. 

It’s a particular type of loss — of your future the way you imagined it, of the version of yourself living the life you were promised.

The panic is unbearable. Your world collapses in seconds. You lose ground beneath your feet. 

Disorienting.

You have to face all of that, to allow yourself to feel all the anger, and all the grief beneath it. The powerlessness.

It's vulnerable. You have to admit you were a victim. 

But are men even allowed vulnerability? Are they allowed to be victims? Are they allowed to be sad? Are they allowed to feel powerless?

Is that what they had to give up for patriarchy’s promises and privilege.

To stop being a victim we must first admit that we were one.

What we resist, persists.

The anger, the grief, and the powerlessness are there even if we don't want to face them.

We find a ‘safer’ target for them — anyone who holds less privilege and less power. 

Because we don't want to upset the system or the ones in charge of it — one day they might actually decide to give us what was promised. We can't risk that.

Until then we will just pick a scapegoat and make them pay for the false promises the system gave us. And in the process, we become complicit in our own victimhood.

It was a painful process and a liberating one — for me to examine where and how I was wanting others to make up for what the system didn't deliver to me.

I was angry. I was grieving. For as long as I needed to. 

And then, I was ready to start creating.

A new version of my life ahead. A new identity whose point of reference is internal, not external. 

A coherent way of being.

If you're somewhere in that process — the anger, the grief, or the beginning of something new — you're welcome to get in touch.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash