Myth: “Women Are More Emotional Than Men.”

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard – usually from a man who is rolling his eyes – that women are more emotional than men. Or perhaps more expressive about and/or in touch with their feelings. Or just generally more dramatic and less rational. And I have heretofore remained politely quiet in the face of this supposedly conventional wisdom so as not to alienate the speaker, or perhaps not to betray my gender in the silly “us vs. them” paradigm to which many seem to ascribe. But I honestly think it’s a load of crap. Because have you met my wife? I’ve devoured baguettes that display more emotion. Have you met me? My gladiator name is Passionus Maximus.

When asked about her feelings, my wife can tell you that: (a) she’s not currently feeling bummed (unless it’s one of the few times in her life when she has in fact felt bummed), (b) she’s more or less happy, or (c) the burrito from earlier did not agree with her. By contrast, I can tell you all twenty-seven feelings I’m having right now, and the intensity of each on a color spectrum from ultraviolet to infrafuckyourself.

Tears? My wife might cry if she were to step on a nail, as a patient of hers died, while she was being maced with pepper spray. I cry in three different parts of The Fellowship of The Ring. Every. Time. I watch it. My wife may get misty on that day in the future when she sees our kids graduate or leave for college. I tear up when I hear Johnny Cash sing “Ragged Old Flag” or Raffi’s song “I Wonder If I’m Growing.” (“My mom says eat your sandwich, it will make you grow up tall, but when I eat my sandwich, I’m hardly bigger at all . . .”).

Number of things my wife has ruined or broken during tantrums and/or arguments with me? One (my previously mint condition copy of the first Fish Police comic book, pierced by a ninja throwing star). Number of things I have ruined or broken during tantrums and/or arguments with her? Significantly more than one, including but not limited to a wicker chair, a papasan chair, various lamps, a set of toy golf clubs, the Yellow Pages, and two ketchup dispensers at Chicago’s “Rock and Roll McDonald’s”.

Number of times my wife has had to pull over on the side of the highway, get out of the car, and walk into a field to calm down and regain her composure instead of losing her shit on me or the kids? Zero. Number of times I’ve had to do that? . . . (Mumble, mumble) some number greater than zero . . . Ditto for telling an extended family member to eat a diseased cock, or suggesting Life Flight be placed on standby because of a head cold, or trying to book time in a sensory deprivation chamber after a weekend with the kids.

Which brings me to dramatic exaggeration. During an argument, my wife will often pause several times while she searches for the most precise words to express her thoughts. I pause not at all – indeed, I speed up – and reach for the most hyperbolic language I can find, and also maybe a Godzilla analogy. Because it is critical that she understand that she is more wrong at that moment than any sentient being in the space-time continuum could possibly be. And that includes Mothra.

What about rationality? I honestly can’t speak to whether my wife uses logic and rationality in making her decisions because I don’t live in her head. I can say the decisions she has made have been good ones, with the obvious exception of her choice in a husband. And while I may pretend that my own decisions are rational, the truth is that they are a bewildering brew of pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth. Wait – those are the seven deadly sins. Shit.

Anywho, when was the last time a woman was so overcome with rage or despair or hate – in short, so emotional and irrational – that she blew up a Federal building, or walked into a school or church and started shooting? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

But I don’t wanna get distracted. This post isn’t intended to be an argument that we need more gun control (though we do), or that NRA members are too emotional and irrational (though very many are). It’s merely intended to question a “truth” many seem to simply accept, but which I think is total bullshit. And it’s bullshit that is maybe harmful. I don’t want my daughters growing up to believe that men are better suited to run a business or lead a nation because they are supposedly less emotional and more rational. They’re not. And pretending they are really would be more misguided and just flat out wrong than Mothra trashing Tokyo.