Men and women should give up fear, prejudice toward each other

And it’s not just objective and measurable differences. It is differences that always have the potential to alienate. Every time a man and women join in friendship or fall in love, they are on some level attempting to heal and reconcile an archetypal estrangement.

This mystery, this canyon gap between the sexes, is universally recognizable even in our post-feminist culture, which tries so hard to pretend those differences are mere learned prejudice.

Not so. The differences are real. They delight us, perplex us, aggravate us, compel us, repulse us, make us crazy. He’s my hero. She’s a goddess. Men are selfish. Women are controlling. He’s my protector. She’s so nurturing. He’s valiant. She’s virtuous. He’s a pig. She’s a whore.

See, all those things are true. Simultaneously. Trouble is, until men and women find health and wholeness of self, each tends to see the other in caricature. Pieces and parts. Distortions and projections. Men and women idealize one another. Then they vilify one another.

Men and women each wield their own disproportion of power. Men have more physical strength. Women have more sexual power. Men rule the world of logic and analysis. Women have the advantage in wisdom and synthesis. Whoever coined the maxim “You can’t see the forest for the trees” was undoubtedly a woman talking to a man. Lost to history, of course, was the masculine retort, “That may well be, but I’m much less likely to walk into a tree, while walking through the forest.”

Each fears the other’s power, and with good reason.

The ancient Hebrews saw some essential estrangement between the sexes that required healing. It’s reflected in the Hebrew myth of Adam and Eve, the original Man and Woman (see Genesis 1-3). In innocence, Adam and Eve “stood together naked and were not ashamed.” Then Sin corrupts the world, and “he shall rule over you, yet your desire shall be for him.”

That a man could want or need to rule over a woman says something has gone terribly wrong. That a woman could want to have sex with a man who wants to rule over her boggles the mind.

A date and I introduce our mutual friend to a woman. A little well-intentioned matchmaking effort. Drinks. An appetizer. It is going well. Until the bar patron with the terrifying breast augmentation walks by. Stifled laughs around the table. I cup my mouth and feign to shout “Heellloooo” and then turn my ear as if to hear the echo that might emanate from the mountain slopes of silicone. My friend says if he falls in there would we please toss in a flashlight so he can find his way out. My date makes some remark about beach balls.

Snort. Giggle. Suppressed laughter. Until we turn to look into the stone face of this woman. Our mirth freezes in midchuckle. “Let me guess,” says our friend, wincing, “You don’t think this is very funny.”

Her reproving gaze doesn’t waver. “I think it’s a guy thing,” she says icily.

Our friend ponders her response for a moment, shrugs, and offers back: “I don’t know. Could be just a real uptight woman thing.”

She gasps. Collects her coat and purse. Leaves. Our friend turns to us and says, “I don’t think she’s my soul mate.”

Like I said, there’s a mystery between the sexes that always threatens to alienate. It’s the stuff of television sitcoms. It is fodder for every stand-up comedy act since the dawn of stand-up comedy. We can laugh about it, or cry. The people I know in thriving love affairs learn to laugh about it, often and loudly. Intimate couples tease each other relentlessly.

Healthy men and women love being men and women, respectively. Healthy men love women to be women. Healthy women love men to be men. Each would miss in the other even those parts that make our eyes roll and provoke sighs of vexed exasperation. “What is it with women!?” … “Isn’t that just like a man!”

Yeah? What’s your point?

For some the struggle yields growth and maturity, a strength of self that can relinquish fear and prejudice and behold the other in mystery and admiration. There emerges a respect sometimes joyful, sometimes begrudging, but respect nonetheless. In friendship, each provides the other a balance. In emotionally committed love relationships, each coaxes the other toward the goal of standing naked, yet not ashamed.

Taking off your clothes is the easy part of being naked.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling and Wellness Center in Las Vegas. His columns appear on Tuesdays and Sundays. Questions for the Asking Human Matters column or comments can be e-mailed to skalas@reviewjournal.com.