Weaponized Tears and The Art of The Male Manipulator

Let me tell you a story about a relationship, and a funny lesson I learned after it exploded in my face. A little background:

We had the kind of relationship you're so sure will work out because unlike the other couples, who you regard with some kind of scorn, you don't bow down to cisheteronormative norms. We were free liberal people (although I am not a Liberal), both intelligent in our own regard, and much more intelligent as a unit. I did all the readings on how to make a long term relationship work. I thought I'd found it and thank god because I didn't have the energy to spend my 20s and 30s in a frenzy over finding a suitable partner to get married to. He was a 'feminist', I didn't have to spend hours every day lecturing him on women's rights and all the nuances of the movement. I thought we were very high brow, as far as couples go. I knew his family, he knew mine (I was silly enough to think this meant anything) and it felt as if we were really cementing it that we'd be together forever. 

I read articles and books about relationship anarchy. I tried my best to unlearn deeply engrained toxic habits. I was a cool girlfriend. I didn't mind that he had girl friends, I thought it was a mark of emotional maturity that he could see women as people and not inherently as sexual objects. I let him go out where he wanted with whomever he wanted. I understood that if he wanted to cheat on me nothing I could do would stop that. I didn't waste energy lording over him because it had to be his choice to respect my boundaries and our relationship.

He was sensitive, very in tune with his emotions. I was smitten by the fact that he could feel things healthily. He cried a fair amount, which was a good sign. Until he cried both times he extremely fucked me over. Men don't cry. Until they do. And when they do, no doubt it my sister, they're using those tears to manipulate you.

I would like to call this, weaponized tears. Because of patriarchy and its first born toxic masculinity, men are 'not allowed to cry.' There are a few circumstances under which a man is allowed to cry: funerals, exactly 3 tears at a wedding, maybe if your wife is giving birth. The men who do cry outside these circumstances are emasculated, a lot of the time, by other men, and sometimes by women. In primary school I had a guy in my class who cried about everything, and because we were stupid children already influenced by patriarchal values we laughed at him for being 'a pussy', teachers included. In fact they were probably the worst proponents of toxic masculinity, and bullied him a lot for being an emotional kid. 

Men, unlike women usually don't cry, so of course if a man chooses to be vulnerable with you, he must be doing it for a damn good reason. In fact, one feels sort of special when the man they love cries for them. Anointed. Surely it means he loves you more than anything, if you can break down this toxic masculinity and connect him to his emotions. They know that we know that they aren't allowed to cry, so if they cry, they must be genuine. Everybody knows somebody whose partner burst into tears after cheating on them or betraying them in some way. In high school there was a girl whose boyfriend cheated on her, then wept and threatened to kill himself if she didn't take him back. It's only after months of looking at things in retrospect and psychoanalyzing one of my past relationships that I realise he was without a doubt, manipulating me, whether he knew it or not. 

The first time weaponized tears were used against me, I had decided to break up with him. Trust had been broken, and I was afraid that if he could have lied and kept secrets from me for the entirety of our relationship up until that point without me suspecting a thing, then that was dangerous. I never wanted to feel insecure in a relationship, have second doubts when he goes out with people, second guess myself, second guess everything. I had been a liberal cool girlfriend and he abused that. (Not that I'm saying the solution to this is becoming your partner's overseer, there really isn't anything to be done but establish whatever boundaries feel right to you.) Now, as I am saying the magic breakup words he starts to weep, the real waterworks, begs me to not leave him, says he'll do anything. I'm a bit horrified and taken aback, this isn't going how I planned at all.

And because I had mothered and babied him for so long, I immediately forgot my own feelings and wanted to take care of him. I couldn't bear to see someone I loved in pain (which is ironic because he sure could bear putting me in and seeing me in pain.) I did what anyone who hates seeing their partner emotional would have done; I took him back. I never wanted to see this man in that type of pain ever again in my life. But I learnt oftentimes, he's crying for himself and not you. It's more hilarious that I never once cried about him screwing me over, and was ready to forget the whole thing, but he wept and wept and didn't eat and smothered me in attention for the next few days. I thought because he cried, he had learnt his lesson, to never cross my boundaries again. But in Nora Ephron's words, "Unfortunately, the lesson he learned wasn’t the one I had in mind: what he learned is that he could do anything, and in the end there was a chance I’d take him back."

I only understood the full reality of weaponised tears when I went to a friend's lunch a few weeks ago, where as girls we just naturally started talking about guys and how shitty they are. And somebody started talking about how if a guy cries after he's hurt you, you are without a shadow of a doubt being manipulated. I had never viewed it this way, up until this point I was baffled that a man who had wept to a point of near collapse over me could then absolutely screw me over. I had up until this point, thought those were genuine tears. Then I learnt the sad lesson that those tears were probably used to guilt trip me into continuing with the relationship. Most of the time, one begins to care more about their partner's feelings over their own, so it didn't matter that I was hurt, angry and betrayed, it only mattered that he was hurt that I was hurt, angry and betrayed. 

The second and last time weaponised tears were used against me, was the day this boyfriend broke up with me. When he was breaking up with me, I, blindsided and completely devastated, was weeping like I'd heard news that he'd just died, naturally. I was in shock, I had never expected this to happen. I could have bet a million dollars we'd be marrying each other at the end of the decade. Plus I had put so much back breaking labor into having a 'good' relationship. Unlike the other buggers who hated each other and weren't politically enlightened, and didn't know about relationship anarchy, and avoiding co-dependance etc. I thought I'd won the damn jackpot, a guy who wasn't misogynistic, in tune with his emotions, was not too shabby looking, into art and was a quintessential 'handbag boyfriend'? I was too lucky. We communicated effectively, had never raised voices at each other a day in our lives, never called each other names, were always honest with each other (or so I thought.) Any sane person would cry like a baby at the loss of this. Everybody knows the dating pool reeks of sewage, and I have no current nor future desire to re-enter it. I never even cried when my grandmother died, but I couldn't stop sobbing, and embarrassingly entered a state of shock. 

He also started to cry then, as I was sobbing because he was dumping me out of nowhere, and you'll probably say well, the relationship was ending for him too. And that would be fair, except that, once again we were in this mess because of him. It was ending for no other reason except one of his own creation. It was completely his fault what was going on, and yet, he still pulled out the waterworks and I, because I'd been so used to mothering and babying him, forgot that he was fucking me over royally, and tried to take care of him. Through my own sobs I kept soothing him, telling him "It's okay," and if I could go back in time to pinch my own ears I would. As his grand exit, he was showing me one last display of his magnificent gift at male manipulation.

 

The talented male manipulator, manipulates you so well that for a long time after, you can't even pinpoint exactly how, when or where he began to manipulate you. I for example, had staunchly believed my partner would never hurt my feelings on purpose. It took weeks and weeks of stewing in my own thoughts for me to admit that it was possible that he was deliberately crossing my boundaries and disrespecting me. I thought, because he would never have hurt me 6 months ago, he can't have hurt me now, then I realized that it doesn't matter if he donated his kidney to me last year if he's hurting me now.

After all the self work and reading on relationships I'd done in the last two years, I never thought I could get manipulated or played for a fool. The funny thing is, the more you think a guy would never do you wrong, the higher the probability of him doing you wrong is. I thought I'd been vaccinated against bad relationships when I was exposed to the virus of it every day. It still feels somewhat incredulous, all this time later, that any of this could have happened to me. I fell in love with him with the kind of ridiculous intensity that can only be brought about from an intense cynicism about love. I wasn't the long term commitment type, and didn't believe in marriage or any of that lark, and when I fell in love with him, the optimism I had about my relationship was almost just as intense as my pessimism about relationships had been. I thought because I had finally fallen in love, with someone I was frighteningly compatible with, that meant it would be perfect and good and last forever. I thought I'd perfected the formula to a great relationship, but there isn't a formula to anything in life, the shitty couples you thought you were doing so much better than, will outstrip you in the end.