In 2023, I was given an honorary membership to the Boys’ Club, and it’s my most treasured achievement.
Let me explain.
I work in the aftersales department of a car dealership, and I’m the only girl here. It’s pretty much the Wild West, but, if you actually stop and get to know the guys, they’re pretty cool. And over the years we got to be pretty close, until I was accepted into the elite boy’s club – in other words, they stopped seeing me as a “woman”.
Instead, these men – foreman, appys, parts guys – all saw me as one of them. Now I know all of them pretty well and coming from the then-foreman, a real hard-ass bastard, that was one hell of a compliment.
Since then, I’ve happily embraced my femininity – including red lipstick, long hair and nails, high heels and being utterly girly – while surrounded by car parts, engine grease, creative swearing and boys with brake dust and oil on their clothes. My friends are engineers and mechanics.
I love being part of the Boys’ Club.
No, It's Not Daddy Issues
I can’t say we grew up normal because my father was an abusive alcoholic, and what is normal anyway?
I was however, incredibly blessed to have a mom who made it her mission to teach us common sense. That’s what we call it here, anyway.
The sense to be self-sufficient, to do our own shit, to think for ourselves, to take responsibility for our choices.
When we were little, our best friend was the boy next door. We would play soccer, catch bugs and build race tracks for our toy cars. My sister and I would also play dress up and Barbie.
My dad died when I was 13, and left me with a nice little Abandonment Issue, which I tackled in the same way I tackle all problems: logically. And that’s a story for another day.
From primary school already, the boys simply made more sense to me. They played real games: soccer, rugby, marbles, built race tracks in the sandpit. We created entire fantasy kingdoms behind the swimming pool with imaginary horses included, and collected feathers in the olive orchard before school. I could talk about astronomy at eight years old and be taken seriously.
The girls, on the other hand, fixated on teasing, gossip and turning innocent friendships into soap operas. I was reading at a seventh grade level in grade two and instead of finding that interesting, they bullied me for it. Every girl who was supposed to be a friend, eventually stabbed me in the back.
The Boys Are Interesting
I attended an all-girls high school, and I loved every minute. Our art classes were mixed, and I met another dear friend there – a boy. Some of my fondest memories are from afternoons walking through town with the cluster of boys, stopping to look through CDs at the music store. We discussed Art, life, culture, maths, sport…do you know what we never discussed?
The only thing the girls were discussing. Relationships. Who liked who, who kissed who, who broke up with who.
Who cares?
At my first real, grown-up job, also, ironically, in the motor industry, I naturally gravitated to hanging out with the yard managers and the guys on the counter sales. Why?
Because they were interesting. The old uncle talked about his farm in the Karoo, about sheep and the veld. The guys made jokes, talked about cars and sports and things they were building.
The office ladies discussed dinner and laundry.
The boys are interesting. Cars, business ideas, sports, jokes, gym, gardening…that’s what we talk about. The things that make life.
The Queens...of Drama
In high school I was part of the outcast/art group so I missed most of the drama, but I know there was a lot of it.
I’ve never had a lot of girlfriends. In fact, my closest female friend, of 20+ years, I cut off with a single swipe after she once again made her bad behaviour my fault.
In the various offices I’ve worked in…it’s always the same. And it’s not like I don’t try! I try to be nice to the ladies, I try to make jokes and talk about things…but it always comes back to the kids, the housework, dinner, complaining about husbands, and relationship gossip.
None of that is interesting to a childless artist-gardener-writer who loves cars, bikes, astronomy, engineering and music! I watch their faces glaze over with polite disinterest and non-comprehension. I sigh inwardly, finish my sentence and wander off, because while I wanted to discuss ground-breaking scientific discovery regarding our perception of reality, the chosen topic was who flirted with who over the weekend.
And I don’t even really care about that, because I learned a long time ago that the things that interest me is not accessible to the average person.
The problem is the drama…that is invented. The drama that doesn’t even exist, but is fabricated, pleasingly arranged and then sent off into the world to multiply, grow extra ears and tails, and eventually comes full circle as a grotesque malformation of nonsense.
The Lies Aren't Even Original
Do you know, what’s the first, the go-to line, that gets recycled over and over, and I’m pretty sure if you’ve read this far, you’ve also thought it?
I’m sleeping with these men.
The first rumour was high school. Apparently it’s possible to get pregnant while sitting on a school porch in full view of the entire quad. Who knew?
Fun fact - I’ve never slept with any of the men I view as my friends. I know some of them would like to. And I’d like to own a small private island. We all want things we can’t have, so who cares?
I don’t really care what the reason is these stories are made up. From where I’m standing, it reads like petty jealousy and not understanding that two people can be friends without any funny business. Honestly, if you’ve never had a genuine, sincere human friendship with a man, I feel sorry for you.
What pisses me off though, is the damage it causes. I’ve lost some really good friends purely from the spite and bile hurled at the friendship, by women who don’t get it.
And of course, when you confront said woman about the things I know she’s said, it’s denied. Because a good gossip is only fun if you don’t have to take responsibility for it.
So I’ve learned to not give a crap about the stories. Luckily, the boys in general also don’t give too many craps.
What I've Learned From The Boys
Apart from the obvious, that I’ve learned all about engineering, spacecraft, horsepower, mechanical and technical, even up to fishing and woodwork, from the boys, I’ve learned about men.
From men.
I’ve learned how their minds work. Oh, and it’s lovely.
I’ve learned how their loyalty works. I’ve learned that their word is their bond, that they feel intensely and deeply. I’ve learned that problems are resolved, head on and straight forward, without agendas, dramas or passive aggressive side-swipes. I’ve learned to appreciate simple things – a nice fire, a blue sky, a cold drink, a fine wood grain, a turbocharger’s flutter.
I’ve learned that when a man falls in love, his heart opens completely and he has no guile and no deceit. I’ve learned that men will do anything to be accepted and loved, to be acknowledged and understood for who they are. That when you show him kindness and respect*, you can ask him a favour when he’s armpit-deep in an engine, covered in grease, and he’ll swear and grumble and climb out and go do it.
(Sidenote, I’ve also learned that they’ll swear, grumble and frown, and it’s not personal at all, because five minutes later when he’s cooled off and no longer aching, he’ll be laughing and joking again.)
I’ve learned how they solve problems, how they enjoy life, how they think about things.
I’ve learned that while they seem fine, they’re lonely, that they rarely feel seen or appreciated, even by the people they’re closest to.
I’ve learned that many of them don’t really trust women anymore, and they don’t understand why or how. I’ve learned that many of them don’t think they’re all that, they run on what they think is expected of them, cope as best they can and hope for the best, because whenever they ask for guidance, they’re made to feel like shit.
I’ve learned that inside of these men are pristine, untouched worlds of intense, raw beauty, like an undiscovered cave that opens up into an unmapped paradise. The sky is blue and the sun shines and there’s dinosaurs and a glittering ocean, and it’s possible to wander through the jungle and along the beach for a long, long time. But they keep it hidden, because they’ve been hurt and disappointed so many times and their innocence is so much different to women’s.
They feel so deeply, and so purely, but it’s hidden inside – because that’s where society told them to keep it.
Their joy is priceless gemstones and every time I’m offered one of these jewels, I take it and keep it safe, because I know how precious it is and how many times these jewels are just smashed.
*The kindness and respect has to be sincere; otherwise you’re just a hypocrite and men can tell the difference. Also, they deserve sincere kindness and respect.
The Poignant Beauty Of Raw Humanity
Keep in mind that I’m writing this with mostly mechanics, engineers, farmers, and generally working men in mind, but I do deal with a lot of male clients from all over – business, finance, IT, education, design, wine industry, builders, medical, the list goes on.
The generalization is sound, because it’s in all of them. And obviously, don’t be that person. Of course there’s an exception to every rule and obviously it’s not all men, just like it’s not all women. Come on.
They are beautiful. Not just physically, but they are beautiful inside. Their minds work in a fascinating way. They see things differently. Their hearts are pure and unpretentious. They love far too easily and too completely, for this world.
So Why?
Why do I side with men, actively?
Because I’ve found more compassion, acceptance and friendship, with the boys, than I’ve ever received from women/girls, for as long as I can remember.
The man or the bear? The man. Because men are not beasts and when you treat them with the dignity and humanity they deserve, you’ll see that.
I am proud of my Boys’ Club membership. I honour and sincerely care for these men, and I will not stand quietly aside while society pulls apart good men for entertainment.
So guys, please keep being you. You are seen, you are valued, and you matter.
The world needs your strength, your courage and your voices.
Roar. I’ll be roaring with you.
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