Ever since I can remember, I’ve been expected to behave and interact with the world in an aggressive way. I have no idea where it came from, but my first obsessions included the colour blue, playing with WWF figurines and Van Damme flicks. Looking back, my fixation with wrestling is probably the most disturbing. Nothing seemed more manly to me than to have long hair, shout constantly, degrade women and ‘open a can of whoop arse’. My family circles reiterated the importance of ‘whoop arse’, reminding me that “if anyone hit me at school, I should hit them back”. If I didn’t like a situation, violence was always an option, and sometimes even actively encouraged. Every male I saw in movies and TV reinforced this with the importance for men to dominate and retain power in relationships.
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