Masculinity: The Shield I Wore

I was listening to an old episode of “Dear Future Wifey” where a man shared how he addresses women who feel they don't need a man because they can manage everything on their own. His response is to apologize. He would say something along the lines of, “I am sorry for every man who has let you down and made you feel like you had to take on a masculine role.”

To me, this was a beautiful acknowledgment. People often complain about the symptoms rather than addressing the virus that started them. A lot of women do not start practicing masculinity by choice, but out of necessity. That conversation had me reflecting on the way I wore masculinity as a shield—and occasionally as a weapon.

The Origin of the Shield

Masculinity was a shield I wore because I realized that if the males in my life saw me as "one of the boys," they wouldn't give me that look. If I could trick them into seeing me as one of the guys, they wouldn't take too much notice of my feminine assets.

As a person who was molested and sexually taken advantage of, I picked up on certain looks early on. It took me years—until God's revelations—to realize those looks were tied to perverted spirits. To a teenage me, that term meant nothing. All I knew was that I didn't want these particular people looking at me that way, especially because some of them were my own relatives.

"A lot of women do not start practicing masculinity by choice, but out of necessity."

Pain, Silence, and Survival

I learned from how I was treated after being molested that people often treated it as the female's fault. Girls were considered "fast," while boys were rarely held accountable. We might both get beaten for those situations, but no one ever stopped to ask, "Were you a willing participant, or did someone hold you down?"

Even then, how can a 6-year-old be capable of consenting to sex? Much less at any age near that. It was around the age of 14 when I began to cry over some of these past encounters. Growing up in a church that preached women should be virgins—and that anything short of that was horrible—made me experience overwhelming feelings I couldn't even comprehend.

Growing up, I never had an outlet to express my emotions. I ended up bottling them up and pushing them away. I never questioned why I tried to act masculine at times; I just knew I had to do it to make that look go away.

Laying Down the Armor

Masculinity was my shield, and sometimes my weapon. Only when I showed toughness did some people take me seriously. It signaled to others to back off because they might be biting off more than they could chew.

Outside of those provocations and looks, I was just an average person navigating life. I didn't naturally appear hyper-masculine or overly dainty. I dressed as a young girl and eventually as a woman. However, occasionally I had to draw out my shield and walk a little more ruggedly just to throw certain men off my scent.

As I write this, I realize I need to surrender this shield. It needs to go to my real protector. No one on this earth can protect us the way God can; we can’t even protect ourselves without Him.

For my spiritual growth, I am ending this blog post by removing my shield of masculinity and permanently giving it to God. I now accept the Lord as my sole protector.

Join the Discussion

• For the women: How have you worn masculinity in your life? If you haven't, what experiences made you feel you never had to rely on taking on a masculine role? (Remember, masculinity in this context comes in many forms—whether physically adopting masculine traits, dressing a certain way, acting guarded, or taking on traditional male responsibilities out of survival).

  
  

• For the men: Have you ever taken on feminine characteristics to help you navigate life or to escape unwanted attention?

  
  

Share your thoughts in the comments below!