Sometimes they also cry, experience fears and insecurities and need psychological support. And there is no better way to find yourself and get rid of fears than a male company. A report from a Paris training where women are not allowed to enter.
The Paris School of Gestalt Therapy offers a three-day training for men only. On it, a Psychologies journalist experienced the need to defend himself, the fear of homosexuality and the power of joint tears. He returned to the editorial office transformed and told how it was.
Li hemberî niha
“Where is that tadpole?”
On the third day of classes, it was necessary to find a totem animal. I chose salmon. For reproduction, it rises upstream. The dangers on this path are countless, the task is difficult. However, he manages. The leader asked me to lie down on the floor. Then he asked four volunteers to sit on my back, and I had to work my way through this dense mass of bodies. And at that moment I heard how the rudest of them, the most uncouth, Oscar1, who has irritated me since the first day, drops ninety kilos of his weight on my ribs with a grin: “And where is this tadpole?”
One of the exercises involved joining in threes: two represented parents, father and mother, and the third was a «baby» curled up between them.
This training attracted me with its motto: “If you are a man, come!”. This appeal to masculinity, provocative nature: what is it like to be a man? For me, as for the other two dozen male personalities gathered under this roof in the Norman countryside, this is not a self-evident question.
— There are so many guys grinding their cigarettes at the entrance, it’s just terrible! – Eric, whom I met for a drink some time after the training, recalls his fears about starting it: “As a child, I could not stand the atmosphere of places where there were only men. All those dressing rooms. This is bestiality. The presence of a woman has always given me confidence. How will I be here? And what about seduction? I actually like to seduce … ”He smiled: such a relief now to talk about it freely. “I knew there were homosexuals among us. I was afraid that I would be desired — and that behind this fear my own desire might be hidden! I laughed. “Imagine, and I demanded to be put in a separate bedroom!” We’ve been through this before…
mêr jî digirîn
At a fairly early stage in the training, we were forced to make physical contact with each other, regardless of sexual inclinations. This is probably a common practice for men’s groups, and certainly common for Gestalt therapy, where tactile experience plays a key role.
Embracing, feeling a warm and cozy human body, a benevolent pat on the arm, on the shoulder is part of the work that we are offered.
One of the exercises involved joining in threes: two were parents, father and mother, and the third was a «baby» curled up between them. «Everyone hugged, it’s so unifying.» The memory made Erik frown. “It was difficult for me. I was out of breath.» He then told us about the environment in which he grew up: an authoritarian mother, a faceless father.
But then, when each in turn changed places with the rest, this made it possible to experience sometimes very conflicting emotions, from appeasement and consolation to depression and anxiety. “The child we are afraid of crushing,” I remembered. “We are afraid and want to crush.” “And at some moments — great joy. Coming from a very long distance,” he added.
After all, we all have the same worries: lust, seduction, difficulties with a father, an authoritarian mother or sadness over her early loss, fear of being alone
Words poured out. The expression of emotions — including sometimes the inability to feel — along with touch is defining for groups of men. Dare to look into each other’s eyes. “I am one of those who is cruel to my children,” one of us said. — So much anger. I want to kill them. I love them, but I could kill them.» There was silence. It was not a condemnation of the one who spoke, but silence in anticipation of something else. And then a voice rang out: «So do I.» Then another. Many of us stinged in the eyes. “Me too,” I said. — And me too». Spasm of sobs, huge bubbles of tears. «So do I, and so do I.» I felt a warm, comforting touch on my hand. Being a man is not only that, but that too.
Lost Illusions
In the group of men, the question of sexuality also arises. About different sexuality.
We speak frankly, especially since we have gathered in groups of three or four people, as if in an alcove. “When I penetrate her with two, three, and then four fingers, I feel more close than when I do it with a member, because he is not as receptive and skillful as the tips of his fingers,” Daniel shares with us, in such detail, that we all have something to think about. Mark takes the floor: “When I want to get a guy, everything is simple: I want to put him in the ass.” And this, too, plunges us into thoughtfulness.
“I’ve never looked at it from that angle,” Daniel said. We all laughed. After all, we all have the same worries: lust, seduction, difficulties with a father, an authoritarian mother or sadness due to her early loss, fear of loneliness. And sometimes we feel like little boys in a male body. “I am already old, and I no longer get up the way I used to,” one of the presenters admitted. “God knows how I loved it!” Potency is our fundamental strength, but if you think that it replaces everything, it becomes only an illusion. Nothing lasts forever, as the Buddhists say.
The boys became men
On the veranda where we’re having a drink, Eric grabs some nuts: “I learned from this training how dangerous it is to identify with your erection. For a long time I thought that in order to remain happy, a man needs to maintain potency. Now I know it’s better to separate these things.» These are good memories. Kind. In the evenings we met, everyone who was there, at a long wooden table.
“Like monks,” Eric commented.
“Or sailors,” I suggested.
The wine flowed there. “No, really,” my friend added, “I ended up thinking that being without women for those few days was very relaxing. I finally didn’t have to seduce anyone!”
Staying for these few days without women was very relaxing. I finally didn’t have to seduce anyone!
Yes, there was also that case with the «tadpole». When I was a boy, I was called «tadpole in cans» because of the glasses.
I suffered. I was small, lonely and wearing glasses. And then suddenly, years later, when I tried my best to be a salmon, alone in front of this wall of men, this human avalanche, with their smells, male cries, hairiness, teeth, I felt myself falling into the abyss of childhood, where everything, oh what I asked for — a friendly pat, a reassuring hand on the shoulder. And that brute must have broken my rib! Then another training leader stepped in to free me. But this was not the end. “Now, fight! Fight off the bear.»
Oscar was a bear. The battle promised to be outstanding. I fought a man twice my weight. Who at the end admitted to us that he was bullied by classmates. He was the tallest, the tallest, and was so shy that he did not dare to defend himself: after all, he wanted to be loved, but did not know that sometimes it was necessary to fight for this, and therefore he was despised, hated and showered with blows. We grappled. Oscar spared my sore ribs. But his grip was firm and his eyes were friendly and soft. “Come on, dump everything that you have accumulated. Get free.» He has a deep voice, the voice of a man.
1 For privacy reasons, names and some personal information have been changed.