Matt Haig

Somewhere along the way men decided it is better to aspire to be a lump of granite than, say, a woman with empathy

I like that in every Spanish bit of media I look like a hitman in a B-movie about an estranged wife kidnapped for ransom on a bullet train

Clarification. Afraid after trying. Afraid after being prescribed the wrong dose of diazepam and then meeting a brick wall with my GP. Afraid after the horrendous panic disorder and agoraphobia meant that going to a potentially counter-helpful doctor would exhaust me for a week. Afraid of spending money I couldn’t afford on a therapist I didn’t believe in. Afraid after never even having therapy as an option. I am lucky now. I can get all the therapy and all the diagnoses I need. Time and postcodes and situations have changed. When your only experience of help causes further harm you stop trying. At least I did. For twenty years.

We are taught to deny and push away from year zero. Denial is our core aspiration. When we are young the worst insults we get are being a ‘girl’ or ‘gay’. Anything too fun, too tender, too bright, too artful, too soft, too empathetic is placed in those categories of what we should not be. To keep up with the pack we are taught to be a negative. To deny emotions, to absorb pain, to be Marcus Aurelius without the nuance or subtext. It takes a will of steel to be soft. And an even bigger one to be totally honest. And so as a result we see two types of men, the man who worships the patriarchal proud cartoon capitalist sinner or the saint who rightly condemns the rapists and monsters but never reveals much of their own grey areas. But for an awakening to become more than a hashtag it needs more than the presentation of perfect saints, it needs the messy middle people. The men who would never rape or be violent but have their own guilt and regrets about lesser things in their past - being a bad partner, an addict, a depressed wallower, a door slammer, a fuckboy, a selfish lazy arse - whatever. And it is easier to be silent. Men are good at it. This is a gender that shows many men find it easier to die by suicide than get active help, so do not underestimate how conditioned we are to hide our mess. Many men see the calls for men to speak up and instinctively run away in fear. You know. It is uncomfortable to belong to this gender and to recall jokes you let fly or even stuff you yourself said in bygone times. But the only way to stop the monsters is to be open about the shadows inside ourselves. We need more than to shame the rapists we also need to look at ourselves and the things that grown in the dark of denial. Let the light in. Become a flawed and honest hero by acknowledging not all men are rapists but all men are denying something because that is what we have been taught. I personally feel a little bit of a fraud if I act too white knightish and I am sure I am not alone. Being real is the only way to change reality. And we can fight these shadows and risk that shame from all sides and see the real rebel protective men we can be.

Having a right fun time with this deliciously unhinged thing. Lemon sharp. Twists to put your back out. Takes unreliable narration up a notch. And with some pretty deep questions about authenticity and who has the right to tell whose story. Really fun. And so messy that you will never feel messy again. But there is a sweetness in there too at times which was a surprise. Five stars.