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It's two different kinds of logic. The stereotypically male way makes sense to me: you take the weapons that could be used against someone and make them harmless. If you're fat, your friends call you fat, and you're like, hey, they know I'm fat, it's established that I'm fat, and they're my friends anyway! Being fat is fine! It takes all the fear out of it. In my perception, the stereotypically female way is, if you're fat, nobody calls you fat. They're careful using the word around you. They might even tell you you're not fat. To me, that makes it seem like the friendship depends on the obvious lie that you're not fat, which makes it seem inevitable that it's going to end. One day they're going to make some acknowledgment of the evident truth that you're fat, and that's your signal that they're done with you and the friendship is over. To me, it feels like the truth is being kept in reserve for the day when they're going to shank you with it. That's my (male) perspective. I'd rather have friends who acknowledge the truth about me and make me feel okay about it than friends who act like the truth about me isn't compatible with friendship and inclusion. On an intellectual level, I get the (stereotypically) female perspective, too -- I get that it doesn't seem friendly to constantly remind someone of their shortcomings, and that a friend group should give someone an escape from oppressive social perceptions. But that doesn't resonate with me as much emotionally. |
I think there is some truth to this old saying. If so, it would make sense that both sides find the way of the other side a bit off-putting.