men who truly care about and want to improve how men are viewed in the context of relationships need to speak up because there are too many men acting out the most damaging parts of the masculine script, giving women and others every reason to believe the worst about them. They take the more stereotypical macho path and typically hurt a lot of people along the way, including themselves. Yet, even most of the guys we consider “jerks,” “cretins,” “playas,” and “douche bags” want more out of their relationships and want to be more within them—they simply do not know how to get there. They are confused, unsure, and scared. They are acting like boys. They are following the “Man Rules” to a tee. They want love and connection, but they don’t have a map. They are simply adrift.
The Journey
Learning to love and be loved is the greatest journey you will take. If you are reading this book, you have already begun or are ready to begin this journey. But this journey is different from most of the others we have taken as men, where the armor of self-protection may have had a useful purpose. As I stated earlier, we need to take off the armor in order to make progress. We think the armor protects us, but instead it separates us from others. In the process, it kills love—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but almost inevitably.
This journey takes place mostly inside us. As men are expected to be more engaged, more emotionally present, more everything in our relationships, most of us are (or were) floundering in trying to do it on our own. In the world of twelve-step recovery, we have been given permission to seek help when we need it. Recovery teaches us Emotions 101—how to feel our emotions and express them in healthy ways, a prerequisite for success in any relationship. Recovery also teaches us how to think of someone other than ourselves and how to be a part of the community, two other prerequisites. Recovery is the perfect training ground for men to learn new ways to act and be in relationships with others.
We spend every moment of our day in and out of relationships. You say all you do is work? Guess what? With few exceptions, work is all about relationships—with every person you pass, every person you email or text, every person you call, every person you convince yourself is the reason you are having a bad day, and every person you stand with in silence on the elevator. And when you are sitting in your office with the door closed, staring at the computer screen like a zombie, you are still immersed in a relationship. With whom? Well, with the most important person in your life—you.
Based on my interviews with men for this book, there appear to be no significant differences between what gay and heterosexual men value and struggle with in their relationships. In fact, while a lot of the language in this book may seem to be focused only on heterosexual relationships, I have worked hard to make it applicable to all men. There seems to be a common thread, regardless of sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, age, and other variables—that is, the challenges we share in a world full of expectations and Rules that make it hard to feel “like a man,” to feel good about ourselves, and to be our best in our relationships. Though we may experience these challenges somewhat differently as individuals, some groups of men experience them differently from others, and some groups (such as gay men or men of color) may have unique challenges; my focus is on the common struggle of men to connect with others in ways that are authentic and emotionally intimate.
That said, I know the importance for me to recognize the lens through which I see the world: I am a white, middle-class, heterosexual male of primarily Irish (and Polish and German) descent in recovery from alcohol and other drugs since May of 1994. I am a trauma survivor who has done and continues to do extensive work to heal from the pain of my experience, healing work that includes having had a father who was addicted to alcohol and who behaved violently. But it has clearly affected my relationships with other men and women and my perception of myself as a man. Another significant part of my trauma that I discuss in more detail throughout the book is having had to receive medical intervention to grow and achieve puberty over the course of six months at the end of my sophomore year of high school and through that following summer. This gave me a fairly unique view of the process of becoming a man. I also have a master’s degree and trained to be an addiction counselor at one of the most prestigious addiction treatment facilities in the country and have worked in the addiction field for almost two decades. I have been married for over a decade to my beautiful wife Nancy, and we have an amazing daughter named Grace.
I believe, and the men I interviewed have convinced me, that a lot of these relationship issues transcend race, class, generations, and sexual orientation. That does not mean we are all the same. Some of these issues will apply directly to you and others will not. You are going to hear from men who have had incredible journeys in their relationships, some of whom have been married for decades. Others have experienced the pain of divorce or the death of a spouse. You may be surprised at the depth of the sharing and the honesty of those interviewed. The men in this book talk candidly about being fathers, lovers, friends, and men. They have learned hard-fought lessons about relationships, many through the high cost of pain.
We have all made plenty of mistakes in conducting our relationships. The point is that relationships take work. It may well be some of the toughest work you have ever done in your recovery, possibly your life. I have seen many men who have conquered incredible challenges brought to their knees by the struggles they faced in their relationships.
I also want to make one thing very clear: This is not a book that tells men how much they have screwed up relationships, or what assholes men are. Far from it. I was meeting with a group of men in recovery, and one with several decades of recovery said to me, “I sure hope you are going to talk about all of the things we do well. There are a lot of things we do that work and that should be celebrated.” I could not agree more, and I hope that also comes through clearly in this book.
The Space Where We Meet
Men and women are not from different planets; we are, at most, from different countries, and we can teach each other our native language. I like to say that men are from Minnesota and women are from Wisconsin. We have a river that separates us, but we can always cross that river.
As a generalization, men and women have different relationship needs and skills. Women are not the only ones with the answers, contrary to what some think or espouse. As my wife Nancy says, each of us has to weed our own garden. That is, when relationships go well, both partners, irrespective of gender, are paying attention to their own side of the street, to their own “stuff.” Both partners need to do the actual weeding, and get help from others when the weeds prove too numerous and/or deep-rooted. Relationships simply don’t work when only one partner works to till and care for his or her garden. One of the last things that my mentor, Earnie Larsen, a phenomenal man who gave so much to our experience as people in recovery, told me shortly before he died, “Dan, I have become convinced that the only way any relationship can survive is if both partners are willing to do their work. Period.”
There is a beautiful place where men and their partners meet in a relationship. It is at this place where both individuals are truly in a new space. Both have entered foreign territory; both have the opportunity to create and explore together a vast landscape of intimacy. Nancy and I hit this point several years ago, and it seems we keep hitting it at a deeper level after a decade of being married. It was here initially that we acknowledged we both did not know what we were doing. We both had to acknowledge that true intimacy and vulnerability are scary as hell. And that was okay. We have built our intimacy over the years and continue to do so. I cannot emphasize enough the importance of working through pain, grief, rejection, anger, and toxic shame as part of that process.
Consider men in recovery. Whether we are dressed in suits, biker gang attire, shorts and a T-shirt, or any other of the numerous skins we wear, you will most likely be amazed at what you hear us talking about—if you pay attention. You will hear men engaged in their relationships, working to understand their emotional lives, willing to see their role in problems, learning to be aware of their own needs and how to set boundaries. This
