Love Advice: How Men Depend On Women!!!

This is a stunning article by Sergei Fedorov about life on a short leash or how men depend on women.

In our culture, the word “dependency” has a very negative connotation. Both alcoholism/drug addiction and psychologically unhealthy relationships disrupt the natural exchange of energy, leading to significant demand and discontent. I aim to approach this phenomenon from a neutral perspective, as we all rely on various sources to survive today. We rely on various sources such as air, food, an employer or the state, and nature to survive.

Dependency is a situation where we, without help or an external resource, cannot cope. The experience of safe dependence, from my point of view, is the ability to calmly count on help, on care. It is the conviction that you are entitled to it just by your existence.

During early childhood, a child should gain experience of safe dependence, but in reality, it often turns out quite differently…

Childhood. “A father can be anyone, but he can’t be a mother; he can’t be a mother!”

After giving birth, my “dirty” mother took me away and placed me in a sterile isolation ward for several days, a fate common to many Soviet children. It was during the May holidays, and for three days, I experienced my first taste of dependence. At the age of 19, my mother faced the challenges of congestion, mastitis, and fever—as well as the disdainful assumption that “doctors know best.”

(By the way, in our family, the two older children, including me, were not given to mom for three days. And we are both nervous; as children, we slept terribly. But the younger two were already allowed to be put on mom’s stomach, allowed to taste the first precious drops of colostrum—they were much calmer and slept at night.)

Furthermore, Dr. Spock proposes dissociating the mother and child, “switching off” the biologically embedded care program, and empathizing with your child. And as a result of this approach—scream or not—there will be no help. The experience of helplessness and horror, I suppose, will be felt.

Her young parents left my three-month-old future wife alone at home while they went to the movies. When she screamed loudly, they closed the door to the room and the kitchen so that she wouldn’t interfere. “She’ll scream and calm down.” This implies that she will experience despair, fatigue, and a state of nervousness due to her helplessness. She will have a positive experience of relying on someone who is safe.

I recall how, as a ten-year-old, I struggled to receive care and attention. Despite being the eldest and having two younger brothers, my mother was under stress and faced a severe shortage of money, time, and energy. I, now a grown man and a father of many children, now understand in my head why she behaved like that, but then I wanted to become small, defenseless, helpless to the point of pain, to the point of hoarseness, to feel the undivided warmth intended only for me. But in our family, at the age of three, I already became an adult—a brother was born. And I could attract attention only by correct, “adult” actions.

One day I drew a beautiful picture on a piece of old wallpaper with pastel crayons. The crayons crumbled in my hands and stained my pants. The picture had a big sun and two bright yellow chickens with big eyes. I thought the picture was very beautiful! I called my mother, went to her room, and brought her to the kitchen, where there was an easel with my drawing. This is the best for you, Mom! Pay attention to me, hug me, and admire me!

I nod, feeling tired. Have you done your homework? Bring your diary.

There are two entries in the diary. Rage, a cry: “And you still draw me chickens!” It seems to me that she tore off the drawing and threw it away. She was filled with burning resentment and shame. “This is not acceptable; I am not that way.” Again it hurts, again there is a lump in my chest, again alone…

I think that such a strong reaction—and I still remember this incident clearly and painfully—is due to the repetition of the situation, “I am abandoned; no one needs me.” And that horror acts as a catalyst, multiplying the pain many times over and turning an ordinary life episode into a mental trauma.

Adolescence. “We sing a song to the madness of the brave!”

I don’t know how it is with girls, but young men, as far as I know, myself and other men, usually rebel. Attempts to get attention and love through useful deeds and achievements often fail: they stop praising you for beneficial and routine things, and you can’t win the Olympics and get leading roles in the theater all the time. But all sorts of wrong actions cause reactions! Yes, there will be swearing, shame, and guilt, but what a concentrated response! The amount of energy expended, solely for my benefit, was astounding!

The stage of counterdependency begins with the slogan “I’ll knock out my eye—my other will have a one-eyed son!” It is a strange state; outwardly you seem to pay no attention to anyone, but inwardly you listen extremely sensitively to what is happening around you, first—with significant adults. You learn to recognize the mood by steps and predict the next action. I still can’t turn off my attention from the outside; I can still hear what all my family members are doing, scattered around the apartment. And putting on headphones to watch a movie or listen to music is downright scary—what if I miss something important? dangerous. Anxious anticipation and heightened readiness characterize the typical state of the house. I felt completely exhausted. Running away to give myself a break was the only option left.

In adulthood, rational arguments such as work, sports, hobbies, and “running a business in pubs and bathhouses” often mask the act of running away. I have nothing against these activities. Moreover, I love them. But I know from my own experience that these are often all ways to “run away” from home. There is positive news: after several years of psychotherapy, it gets easier. The house becomes warmer and cozier, anxiety decreases, and you can even enjoy it.

Counterdependency differs from dependence only in appearance. In essence, it is dependent with a minus sign—to everything the other way around. It seems quite clear to me that in this case, a person is just as dependent on the opinion and state of a significant other. Many men possess this inherent trait because it bears a striking resemblance to the societally propagated image of freedom. And freedom and ostentatious strength are the main signs of masculinity.

Often hidden behind this façade of ostentatious independence is a small, offended boy, sniffling and wiping away tears of resentment. To increase his persuasiveness, he chants, “It doesn’t hurt me; the chicken is happy!” Deep inside, this unfortunate youth faces exile, confiscation, and the loss of the right to correspond. Experiencing all this anew is intolerable… The antics only grow more sweeping and reckless! Mom, pay attention to me. Mom!..

Youth. “Freedom for the parrots!”

Finally, the time comes when the boy becomes a mature enough young man and can throw it in his mother’s face: “If I want, I’ll leave!” Most often, this happens when he enters college. The burden of the freedom that has fallen on him is intoxicating and frightening. There is no one left to fight with, nowhere else to get what he lacked in childhood. However, the gestalt remains open!

I dealt with this by entering Moscow State University, the Faculty of Mechanics and Mathematics—father’s department. They say my father cried when I entered. I didn’t see it. It was “to make them proud.”

Additionally, the Student Theatre Workshops of Moscow State University received an overflow of emotions. This was done to make room for the complex emotions that had been lingering within. This was done “to ensure everyone would notice.”

But all this is not it! All accomplishments lose their value; the attention of others, initially gratifying, gradually demands a higher dosage, akin to a narcotic. It stops getting high. Because it is not it! It is like trying to eat all the time when you want to hug. Because you need a “good mother”—one” who will hug, understand, and be there, Perhaps the young man chooses a marriage path that makes sense to him! And everything will be fine in his family!

Psychologists unanimously say that we choose a partner who is very similar to the parent of the opposite sex. This similarity does not necessarily manifest in physical appearance. However, it is influenced by certain significant, sometimes even distressing, features. I call it for myself: My cockroaches are looking for friends in someone else’s head. If they manage to find a companion, they will experience a surge of emotions! Yours!

I got married at 19. I approached a former classmate to analyze her character, and Kroaches gave his approval. We were madly in love; there was a flurry of emotions. We started dating in May and got married in October. She was still 18.

We still live together; I think we live very well. I am pleased that life turned out this way. This has been a good, fulfilling life. However, that’s not the main focus at this moment.

Several years ago, the routine of life and the feeling of unbearable heaviness of existence, when the usual ways of satisfying our needs ceased to bear fruit, led us to a depressive dead end. We then sought help from psychotherapists separately. This was a turning point in our personal and joint life.

We always talked a lot. That’s probably why we lived together for many years. Now, we’ve begun to openly discuss topics that were previously unaccepted and unpleasant, such as power dynamics within the family, mistrust, expectations, and mutual dissatisfaction.

I always thought that I was quite selfless. I generally don’t need anything from others. This also applies to my wife. It turned out that this is not true at all. An honest conversation with myself led me to these discoveries.

I need attention from my wife. My demands are so great that she must fulfill them at my every whim.

I need approval from my wife. She must approve all my ideas, initiatives, and projects. All my actions receive approval. This closely resembles the concept of complete and non-judgmental acceptance. They claim that this type of acceptance can only occur between a mother and her unconscious, completely dependent baby, typically for a period of one to two years. She should not be angry or criticized. Even a simple lack of attention is unacceptable.
My wife should share responsibility with me. Without her approval, I did not take on any business. Even if there was a failure, it didn’t feel as daunting. Ultimately, her approval ensured she wouldn’t face any reprimands.

I expect my wife to be a “good mom.” She never lived up to my expectations. Seeing another living person who just for some reason decided to live nearby is the hardest task.

Mom, I brought you some chickens!

So what do these “strong and free” men depend on? Why are they so menacing and demanding? It seems to me that these are very simple things: recognition/rejection, approval/criticism, ignorance/coldness… a . .  slight half-turn of the head, a slightly contemptuous grimace, an insufficiently enthureaction—all of this can be a trigger, a catalyst for a whole storm.

Undoubtedly, a traumatized individual perceives pain in almost all situations. And so, outwardly, such a calm and confident person is already banging his hand on the table. Or raising his hand. Alternatively, he may turn away in a contemptuous manner. Alternatively, he may speak with a cold, unforgiving politeness. Depending on what he learned from his parents… And whether he speaks or remains silent, it’s all the same: “Mom, pay attention, Mom, hug me, Mom! I brought some chickens—the best I have, Mom!