Let me be me, too

(I wrote this in the latest issue of Marie Claire, am reproducing the original version here, in case you missed it.)

Marie Claire is a woman’s mag, or so I believe, and its core ideology, as the Editor matter-of-factly informs me, is, ‘Let Me Be Me’.
Sure, I’ll let you be you. Go right ahead and build a high-flying career, earn pots of bucks, and if you make more than me, I shall be prouder still. No, you don’t have to ‘adjust’ with my eminently unlikeable parents, you can choose to live with them, or away, I will entirely respect your decision, this is your life and your choice to make. I shall take at least fifty per cent responsibility of bringing up the kids, I will gladly change the wet nappies, I will spend quality time with them, I would take active part in their rearing, I would even cheerfully breast-feed them if nature permitted. Go ahead, wear the trousers at home, and if you wish to retain your maiden name, be my guest. And yes, I am more than delighted with the woman on top thingy, both literally and metaphorically.
And I would not do all these things because that’s the New World Order, I would because I recognise we are equals in every single way, so we must share all rights and duties in equal measure.
There’s more: I will also learn to respect your feminine side (what good is being a woman without one?), will understand your many mood swings, will learn to live with your untimely headaches. Yes, I will leave the toilet seat down (and very, very dry), will fetch you roses even when there’s no occasion to do so. Will happily watch chick flicks like Peggy Sue Got Married, Runaway Bride and What Dreams May Come, cuddling on the sofa, and I will always listen, listen, listen, even appear genuinely concerned.
And I swear to god I will never get upset with anything you do or say, will always strive be an understanding partner. Not just because that’s fair and correct, but now there’s a law against me using cuss words at home… I could get effing arrested, hon!

However, in return, I want you to let me be me, too. Because, contrary to popular belief, we men are human beings too, and we have our own set of quirks and characteristics. Allow me to mindlessly surf the television set on occasions, even if that drives you mad, I just love doing it. Allow me the luxury of a cigarette and Premier League after sex, that’s my idea of great after play. Not asking for much, I am sure, after all, I did all the kissing, canoodling, licking, whispering, smiling during the prolonged foreplay, didn’t I? Once in a while, when I travel miles to get you flowers, don’t frown when I return with cans of beer instead, I need to indulge myself at times. And yeah, I do want to be stuck with the blokes on Saturday night out, where I will talk dirty sex, ogle at other women, get pissed drunk, and generally make an ass of myself. Every man needs a break from buying decorative pillow covers at the mall, right? And if I am happy to watch saas-bahu wrestles all week long with you, why would you grudge me the WWF bout on the odd Sunday? And by the way, I detest moisturisers on my face, I find them to be sticky, gooey and itchy, and I don’t care if that’s an uncool thing to say.
Being genetically unengineered to multi task, there will be times I am focussed on another activity, and will fail to listen to your pressing problems with the neighbour’s wife. Please do go easy on me, mate, I am biologically incompetent of executing two activities at one time, that’s not my fault, surely!
Of course you can drive the car, but don’t sulk when I get into road rage on my turn at the wheel. There’s no definitive book written yet on what gets men going, but some testosterone on the road definitely does, ask your man.
And I’ll let you in on a secret no man will: the reason we men love blow jobs so much, is apart from being highly pleasurable, they bring some peace and tranquility in the house. Yup, I do like the sound of silence sometimes.

So, yes, love, I’ll let you be you. But please do return the favour. Surely that’s not asking for much. After all, what good is being a man without a masculine side?