Relearning To Trust The Masculine

I’ve never trusted the masculine. I’ve been so consistently fucked over from a young age, that I couldn’t. From having best friends steal girlfriends, to getting jumped and beaten up, to be cheated and lied to and betrayed and assaulted, my fall back was to just spend more time with women. It felt safer and far more comfortable.

Unable to trust the masculine externally, also meant I shied away from embracing it internally. And ultimately, this lack of trust in masculinity was my downfall.

Learning how to trust anyone again is a daunting experience. You put yourself out there like a turtle poking his head out of the shell, wary that the thing you are exposing yourself to, is the same thing that smacked you so many times before.

Then the moment comes when you timidly stick your head so far out, that instead of getting smacked, you are held, you are met, and you are seen. Your nervous system regulates. And you realise that the thing you have been hiding from out of fear, is actually the greatest source of medicine you could have ever asked for.

There are multiple paths men’s work can take. From the sitting around a fire and crying, to the uber hardcore physical. Touching the deepest most painful parts of our psyche, to sharpening each other through fire and pain. Sitting in deep stillness, to full on celebratory dance. Acknowledging the primal masculine part in us that would kill, to the soft, feminine aspect that can sit under a tree and write poetry. To deny any of it is to deny a part of ourselves, and that has never worked out for anyone.

Sharing space with so many conscious men, willing to make you uncomfortable till you express fully your truth, to dig deeper until your most profound impulse for life is refined. To be held in your tears and pain, and to be held accountable to become the most proficient, deepest version of yourself. There truly is nothing else like it.

Being able to witness the strength, fierceness, softness, integrity, and beauty of the masculine, has birthed in me a new found trust and love.

What a year. What a group of men. What a blessing.

If brotherhood is the medicine, then John Wineland is the doctor.