When a man walks into a room, he should feel as if he owns it.
It takes years of imitating, observations of other mens' behavior,
and hard work to attain this swagger.
I never felt that "I owned the room", until I was in my mid-30's.
I needed to overcome many fears, pass many tests, experience countless disappointments, and observe death first hand, to reach a state of mind,
where I thought, "I truly was a man".
I was in the club of "maleness", or so I thought.
I carried my illusions, and my myths, and like all things, they evolved.
As I approached fifty, I felt broken, disassociated from love, feelings,
and from life itself. I saw my past with clarity, for the first time.
I became a better man, by owning up to my failures. I tried to change.
I had months of success, but would relapse back into mythologies invented by other men, rather than by myself. I worked on every facet of my personality, and by the time I was fifty-seven, I found that I was happy in my own skin.
I didn't need the swagger in the room. I carried my "maleness" inside of me.
This was short lived, because I was put to more tests. I wore many hats.
I had to be a caregiver, a husband, a father, and a decision maker.
I had to fight personal illness, and the loss of family and friends.
I buried many of those I loved, and I evolved further.
My conception of "man things", became less manly, and more feminine in nature.
I guess I learned that true swagger comes from acceptance, not the ego.
I don't own a room, when I walk into it anymore. It owns me.
I adapt to each room I walk into, and try to do what's best for me,
and everyone else. By the age of sixty, my man things were losing their grip on me.
Sometimes they come back, but I use them more judiciously. I hope that if I live to be seventy, I will have evolved into a "real" man. The real man becomes a trusting, little boy, so he can fill his heart with love. Then, and only then can he live in a wonderful world, because he is filled with curiosity, and imagination.