So, I had some pretty cool friends growing up. Most of them were cousins, though some were unrelated to me. Regardless, each and every one of them were pretty exceptional kids and are now some amazing young adults. I’m honestly proud to have grown up with them.
However, I remember an experience with some kids who weren’t like my friends. I believe I was around six or seven years old when I went to play with some newer friends, in a group of kids all around my age or a little bit older. I have to preface this story, though, by sharing the knowledge that I was pretty sensitive as a child and I didn’t handle new situations very well. So bear that in mind.
I don’t think it was long after we had arrived at their house, and we started trying to decide what to do. If memory serves me correctly, the group consisted of two older girls kind of taking charge to decide what we should play, one of the girls younger brother, and then me and my friend.
Somehow or another, the conversation devolved into an argument that was not much more than “Girls rule and boys drool” sort of talk back and forth. I know this maybe sounds pretty average, but for six year old me, I was confused. It bewildered me, because I didn’t think I was “dumb” for being a boy or that girls were “gross”. Why can’t we just play something?
After being taken to these strangers house to play with kids I only half know and then being confronted with this conflict, I broke. I ran away and hid crying until the others found me and got my mom.
Later in my childhood I experienced more of this and after getting called a few names, I honestly became a little bit scared of girls. But regardless, I still played with them the same as the boys.
This is something I always thought stayed in elementary school, though. I mean, adults are much older and wiser, certainly they don’t treat others negatively just for being associated with a specific gender?
After hearing joke after joke about how women are just oh so confusing to men and how men have jelly brains incapable of empathy for their own wives, it dawned on me: it never stopped.
These adults are just as immature as eight year old kids, pouting and shouting out names in the frustration of being misunderstood. And just like kids, neither person is trying to understand the other. They just want to play the game that they want.
Some of you will say these jokes are harmless, but there is almost always a hint of truth all sarcasm. For you to say it, you had to perceive it, and it shows something deeper.
By perpetuating those cliches we’re furthering ourselves from truly understanding one another.
They say these things over and over and swear I’ll understand what they mean when I’m married, but I’ll risk sounding arrogant to say: I never will understand it. Because I will always strive to cherish my wife for the jewel that she is, and I can only hope she’ll love and honor me the same.
Kori Illustration 