As I neared the end of my shift a few weeks ago, I thought about this post and how it should be phrased? Fantasy or reality, huh? Both are polar opposites yet sometimes they bleed into every facet of our lives. We look at magazine articles where the women are crafted into these flawless beings with toned legs, flat stomachs, long hair, and perfect skin. They chafe at these images and bristle when members of the opposite sex expect them to live up to a standard society mandates. Men look at these glossy images expecting our future wives to have no flaws, tangible or otherwise. They spend every waking hour smoothing away their various idiosyncrasies, their strength, and determination so they don’t scare off a boy pretending to be a man. They are to morph in this hollowed out, plastic, cardboard version of herself.
Men succumb to the pressure of living up to expectations women yearn for a husband. He is to have a chiseled face, light colored eyes, six-pack abs, a piercing gaze, light stubble, and muscular arms – basically your average, airbrushed cover of Men’s Fitness. This man is to show no weakness, no emotion, and remove any doubts, worries, and concerns his doe-eyed, fragile, and helpless damsel has rattling around in her mind. As a young man who is still maturing, I find this superficial definition of masculinity untrue and downright insulting. As a gangly, awkward, and acne-ridden teenager I didn’t measure to what a teenager girl would define as handsome, cute, or marginally attractive.
I sit here at my computer thinking of the litany of images that demand who and what I should be. I still wrestle with the notion of what I’m supposed to off my future wife when I meet her. Am I supposed to project this image of a retired, strong-willed monolith who buries his true character to mask his eccentricities, frailties, and other flaws we try to hide behind a faltering veneer of strength.
Why all this subterfuge? It’s simple: fantasy. Some say fantasies are unhealthy, keeping us from facing the grim realities of life. Some also argue that fantasies keep us from progressing because we don’t want to admit that we are afraid of what a new phase in life brings. If fantasies are so dangerous, why do we indulge our insatiable curiosities by reading books, watching movies, or traveling to new places? One would say fantasies create a buffer that cushions us when we are greeted by crippling disappointments. If we are honest with ourselves fantasies gives us something to dream of, look forward to, and learn how to handle the inevitable curve balls life can hurl in our direction. In my opinion, fantasies have helped me shave off the excess baggage life has tried to nail on the cross I am charged with carrying. Every person has a moment of doubt, where they question if they have the fortitude to climb another mountain after wading through a valley where they were stripped of the essential or inessential. The inessential being the boundaries and definitions imposed on a society whose images sell a fantasy to make money. Fantasy or reality? Where does one begin and end? When we learn that God is perfect. He offers perfect love and perfect peace without a price except His Son Jesus Christ
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