A LOVE LETTER TO A REAL MACHO
Words by Crysta-Tita Colmer Photography by Ashley Sanchez
Thank you.
Thank you for allowing me to reimagine a world of men that I don’t hate. For giving the broken and battered women, who have crumbled under the thumb of the oppressive macho for generations, a new refuge. We are tired, I am tired. Thank you for allowing me to release the hold that callous-handed man had on me as he shouted into my ear how I, nor my mother, would ever be worthy enough. He was drunk, he was loud, he had a heavy walk and an even heavier hand. He told my mato to shut up and have his dinner ready when he got home.
“Calladita te ves mas bonita”?! What a piece of shit. He wore steel-toe boots and a beer belly, with a hat that said “Latinos for Trump” cause he’s ignorant. He told me all about what “men are like” when I was a kid. Every week I sat at his feet and I believed every word. I bet he thought I was just another pendeja he was imparting his profound wisdom on. Disgusting. And with every word he spoke, I clung on to his harassment, to his hatred, to his anger, to his dismissal. He showed me what a real man was like, I guess. I found myself wanting to impress him, so I embodied his anger and became his mirror.
God, I hate men.
When I grew up a bit, I met you. You changed my world the minute your hands met my face and you told me to let it out. “Be angry, you’ve been hurt by people who should never have hurt you. That’s not a real man,” you said. Your dedication to being a better man than you or I had ever known busted my heart space wide open. I didn't want to believe it at first, I’m ashamed to say I even denied it. “Men don’t change, that’s just man culture. Macho? You mean men?! Fuuuck them! Good luck!” I mourned your imminent descent into their degrading reality.
But you were patient and knew me better than I knew myself...but above all else, you were dedicated to the masterpiece that was you in the making. Through your transition, you showed me that masculinity doesn’t have to be about power and control. Instead, you made it about respect, consent, and kindness. I healed as I watched you embrace emotions, acknowledging them, talking about them, and then letting them go with compassion. “Macho can mean protecting and nurturing, not just dominating.” There was strength in your vulnerability. I hadn’t known it before, what was I witnessing? Through knowing you and loving you deeply, I’ve come to see that the macho I truly admire is gentle, soft, caring, and full of love. The alchemist of intricate worlds, elusive genders, endless expression, and truly magical transformation. You are the bringer of life, in one way or another.