Shelter From the Rain

Eight years ago (2012), I had a moment I’ll never forget. I was between relationships. I was spending time with a girl named Heather, whom I was interested in, though ultimately nothing ever happened between us. Even still, we had a moment I’ll never forget.

Shortly after I’d met her, she’d told me she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She was happy to be friends, though, which made this memorable night possible.

We were walking at night – late at night, like perhaps midnight or 1am. I had an umbrella with me, in case it might rain. Heather and I were just getting to know each other. We were telling each other about our backgrounds. Heather did not have a troubled childhood like I did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have troubles. Her troubles centered around aimlessness. She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. Nothing really interested her. In fact, she was from Arizona, and only moved to the west coast in the hopes of finding a path in life that interested her.

Her aimlessness made her quite sad. Nothing could cheer her up. It started to rain, and I opened my umbrella. By that time, Heather had already told the part of her life story where she told me she was depressed from not having any purpose with her life. Then, the rain got heavier. It got so heavy that she and I needed to find shelter. But the only shelter around was other people’s houses, and so, our only option was the nearby park. We went there, and sat on the play structure.

Heather was now too sad to really talk anymore. So, we just sat under my umbrella in silence. She leaned her head against my shoulder, and we listened to the heavy rain pounding relentlessly on my umbrella. She remained completely dry, but my right shoulder was exposed to the rain, so it got drenched. We sat there for about thirty minutes, in total silence, except for the occasional word or two, waiting for the rain to either stop or lighten enough to walk through again.

Almost nothing but the sound of heavy raindrops.

Heather and I were never a couple, because she didn’t want to be with anyone at the time. But what I greatly appreciated about her was how she allowed me to be man, without using me. That rainy night, for example, was not an instance of Heather using me to keep her dry. That night, we were only out there in the first place because I wanted to go on a walk with her. But she didn’t take offense that I kept her dry with my own umbrella, and she very intentionally allowed me to comfort her by offering my shoulder.

As another example, on another night, she and I were playing video games with my best friend, and she started getting a really bad headache. She was sitting next to me on the couch, and I suggested she lay on my lap. She said, “It’s okay, I’ll just wait for it to go away.” I let it go, until about fifteen minutes later when she said the headache was getting a lot worse. So, I got firm, and I told her to turn and lay her head on my lap, which she did. To help relax her, I proceeded to rub her head with my left hand and rub her belly with my right hand, while she and my best friend kept playing the video game. That was an instance of me being firm in taking care of her, and she trusted me that I wasn’t just … looking for an excuse to snuggle with her or something like that. When we were done playing video games, and Heather got up, her headache was gone.

That is the essence of being a man. Men want to serve, men need to serve. We will get soaked so that you can stay dry. Or we’ll give up playing video games to make you feel as comfortable as possible to help you get rid of a severe headache.

One of the many, many reasons I despise feminism is that it poisons the minds of women to feel insulted if a man is strong for them, or to be distrustful of men whenever they are being strong. Feminism brainwashes women, even women who don’t identify as feminist, to not rely on men for anything. But whenever women allow men to be men, everyone benefits. Women are not as strong as men, physically or mentally, and that will always be true no matter how much feminists don’t want it to be true. Men are around two times physically stronger than women, on average, and I think that’s poetic, because it’s almost as if men are built to be strong for themselves and their love. Like we are physically strong enough to carry our own weight, and another’s.

Serving is what we are built to do. We are not built to do anything else. It’s not ‘what society expects of us,’ it is truly what we want to do with our existence. We exist to make things right, to make our loved ones safe, to make our loved ones happy. It’s not a conscious behavior, it’s a deeply-engrained nature. And this covers far, far more things than just sheltering you on rainy days…

Now, there was one instance when Heather and I went on a night hike, and she got offended that I helped her cross a stream, saying, “You think I couldn’t do it because I’m a girl,” but fortunately, that was the only instance of feminist poison interfering.

I’m not saying all men have the best intentions. It’s a shame that it’s never easy to tell what a man’s intentions are. From my own observations, men only do what it takes to get laid, and if they get it, they no longer care. Not all men, or possibly even most men, would serve even if they never get anything in return. For example, Heather and I never dated or did anything sexual. On that rainy night, though, it never crossed my mind for a moment that I might earn getting laid having a moment like that with her, and remember I actually was interested in her. So, you never really know. I tend not to trust men, and that probably makes me a hypocrite.

Doesn’t change what men are supposed to be, though.

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