MattGlover.com

How come, when you’re a boy at school, you hang out with your best friends, walk around with your arms around each others shoulder and share all your deepest secrets, yet when you become a man, real male friendship all but disappears?

Steve Biddulph suggests two things:

1. We’re scared people will think we are gay.

2. Our competitive nature makes us think we are weaker than others if we are open and vulnerable.

Biddulph goes on to discuss in more detail that men have been given very little opportunity to share what they are thinking and feeling. It is simply not given the same priority in the men’s world as it is in the women’s world. Yes, there are ample opportunities to sit around and tell lies to each other - the sporting arena, the pub, mowing the grass on the weekend - but few real, safe forums for males to delve deeper with other males.

And, ironically, both sexes are worse off because of it.

Men need to be able to experience and express grief, sorrow, pain, joy, fun and happiness in the company of other men as well as their wives or partners.

And that’s where the chapter ends. I agree with all that Biddulph is saying here, but the chapter is so short and finishes so abruptly that I wonder whether he is just as bewildered as the rest of as to how to see real male friendships happen.

I must admit that I am embarrassed by the number of potentially strong friendships I have let drift away in my life time. I have used many excuses to try and justify it - marriage, moving, changing careers, getting older, changing life stage, arrival of kids - none of which should really be any reason to lose contact. But even worse is how hard I’ve found it to find friends to take their place.

But something else I must admit too. It hasn’t really worried me that much. Sure, from time to time it gets me down, but the majority of the time life is so full that there seems to be no space left. And being the introvert that I am, any spare time I do get, I prefer to spend alone. I catch up with a few individuals for lunch every so often and those friendships are becoming deeper, but the ‘hang out and share life with’ type friend I don’t seem to have - purely becasue I don’t have time to hang out!

Am I missing out on something here? I spend heaps of time with people in my pastoral role, but most of those relationships are one way. It’s not appropriate for me to share too much of myself and would often cause more harm than good anyway. Does that leave me so drained that I have nothing left for anyone else? I don’t know.

Perhaps the church community does a better job than most at providing space for men to share. Mens groups at my community have become more prominent in the last few year and have helped support a number through some very dark times. I doubt that I could ever be so open, though, in such a group in my own church - I’ve seen too often how a pastor sharing about marriage problems, addictions or whatever has done nothing but get them fired. It reminds me how important it is for leaders to have a support network outside of their own community.

Anwyay, I’m rambling. I’m not really sure what to say about this chapter. I know it is a big one for many. I know there is a huge need. I know that I have friendships that are becoming stronger but I still suffer from the occassional bout of loneliness. I know that if I’m not careful and don’t put in the time, I’ll get to the end of my life a know nobody.

We’re great about talking about ‘mateship’ in Australia. Here’s hoping we can somehow translate that into friendship.