A long time ago, when I was in my late teens, I hit my girlfriend. It was done in a moment of grief, anger, and high emotion. She was having an emotional meltdown due to factors that had nothing to do with me. In my naivety, I tried to calm her, but being a clumsy teenager, what I said did not help an already volatile situation. She lashed out, hitting me quite hard in the face. I was shocked, not so much by the pain, but that someone would hit me. She hit me again, even harder, on the side of my head, giving me terrible pain to my ear. I was really stunned and now in pain. When she tried to hit me again I slapped her on the face. The slap shocked her into stopping her tirade of abuse, which in hindsight I realised was not really directed at me. It took a much wiser head to explain that to me a few days later. However, I was stunned at my own behaviour.
The important part of this story, for me, was how I felt when I did it. I didn’t feel powerful. I didn’t feel manly. I didn’t feel strong. I felt mortified. I had apologised profusely to my girlfriend, and she said she forgave me, and laughingly apologised for beating me up and giving me a black ear.
I don’t have to name them, you’ve all read the stories, you know who they are. However, there are lots more. Would they want their sisters treated that way? Or their mothers? Or do they just see women as ‘cock fodder’, another scalp to make them feel more like a man? Well not in my eyes.