The Queen’s Code

by Alison A Armstrong

  Melissa interrupted, “Now I emasculate my husband? And that's why he's an asshole? How can you emasculate a man who has no balls in the first place? He runs from an argument, he shirks his responsibilities, and he only spends time with people who fawn all over him. He's not even a real man to begin with.”

  Kimberlee felt nauseous. Would she fall into the chasm that lay gaping between them?

  She took several deep breaths while feeling the cold silence. She couldn't think of any way to go forward and their friendship was too important to her.

  She backed up. “I'm sorry, Melissa. I'm sorry this is what you have to deal with. You deserve more.”

  As the words came out of her mouth, Kimberlee felt like a traitor to her grandmother, to her heritage, to the possibility of men and women coexisting peacefully.

  She's right. I have changed. How could I identify this quickly with what I've learned? After years of thinking exactly the same as Melissa? Because it feels right. And good.

  “I have a stack of work on my desk and I'm leaving early for my annual checkup. Is there anything else I can do tonight? Do you want me to come over after my lesson?” Kimberlee offered out of years of loyalty.

  “No, thanks. He still may show yet. And your being here would make it worse.” Melissa added quietly, “Thanks for listening, though. It means a lot.”

  Kimberlee heard the words as Melissa's own attempt to heal the fracture. If they remained civil, they could probably even pretend that it wasn't there.

  KAREN found herself envying Kimberlee again. It must be simpler being single, she thought. Not nearly as many things to react to; not nearly as many moments of anger or frustration.

  Over the last four days, she had uncovered her most tried and true ways of emasculating Mike. If she ignored the pain, she could admire the efficiency of her methods; they required little energy. They mostly consisted of withholding something from him: appreciation and admiration, clearly; sex, naturally; not as obvious, participation.

  Just say no, huh? All those times she'd assumed his invitations were polite, not sincere. And she'd declined in an offhanded way, unconcerned that he displayed no signs of relief — the way a woman would when an insincere offer was turned down. Mike's disappointment had been real and she'd discounted it. Another way to emasculate: not trusting.

  As she confronted the price of her behavior, she was unraveled. The currency was intimacy, love, sharing, attention, respect, affection and partnership. She was nearly bankrupt. No, she thought, we both are nearly bankrupt. Mike has paid the price too. Our marriage has paid the price. Even if he never helps around the house, it's not worth this.

  Still, she held onto the hope that Claudia would teach her a way to get the support she desperately wanted. Without nagging, criticizing, needling — and withholding.

  Though he acted as if it were obvious, Karen didn't understand Mike's question about taking out the trash. How could that impress me? Should it? And did his eagerness imply that he'd gladly do it if it impressed me?

  Reviewing her notes during lunch, Karen began creating another flipchart display:

  How Women Emasculate Men

  • Withhold appreciation

  • Withhold admiration

  • Withhold participation

  • Withhold sex

  • Don't let them impress you

  • Compare unfavorably – be impressed by someone else

  • Don't trust them

  • Assume insincerity

  • Don't need them for anything important to you

  When she exhausted her own discoveries, she phoned Kimberlee to see if she could compile a complete set of notes from both their observations. She was surprised how happy Kimberlee sounded to hear from her, even at work. And she was delighted with how many other things Kimberlee had to add.

  • Be disinterested in their passions

  • Complain

  • Expect them to act the same as girls/women

  • Don't let them help you

  • Demean their earning abilities

  • Blow off their suggestions and ideas

  • Ignore them

  • Criticize them

  • Interrupt them

  Karen thought she should have caught that one herself. She'd learned to listen to Mike months earlier. She hadn't realized that the opposite of what works could be emasculating. The list continued:

  • Rolled eyes

  • Tsk or scoffing sounds

  • Be impatient

  • Take over something you gave them to do

  • Demean their virility

  • Shut down their storytelling

  The last two certainly piqued Karen's curiosity. But Kimberlee didn't elaborate. As Karen finished her list, it occurred to her that each manner of emasculating men might have a specific consequence, in addition to the general short-term and long-term effects of emasculation.

  Jack was looking for an excuse to go by Raul's office Wednesday afternoon. He normally dropped in once or twice a month. He admitted it wasn't his friend he wanted to see. He told himself that the subtle change in Kimberlee merely intrigued him, but it was more than that.

  He'd always been attracted to her physically. He appreciated the female form and she was his type. He loved curves, he craved substance, and he wanted a woman with plenty to hold onto. Jack appreciated the voluptuous beauty of her body, as he would any work of art.

  For years, he'd admired Kimberlee's figure at his leisure. After her initial scowl, she studiously ignored him, chin up, and he'd responded by becoming more obvious. It had become a kind of game, trying to get a bigger rise out of her.

  Now he was looking for a different kind of reaction. He hadn't been able to forget the experience of being seen below the surface, however briefly. Her brilliant blue eyes had widened in recognition. As if he'd suddenly become real, a whole person, more than merely another man admiring her body. It made him want to be known by her, seen even more deeply. And it compelled him to find out who she was in her entirety. In the moment that he had become three dimensional to her, so had she to him.

  He knew he was at least ten years older. But he liked that. Not because of the trophy BS people talked about; it wasn't the youthful beauty he needed. He'd learned that a significant age difference tended to eliminate a woman's need to compete with him. It made it all right for him to have “made it” while she was still in hot pursuit of success. He could encourage and support and he liked that. If only a woman would be content to receive and appreciate all he wanted to provide. Unfortunately, he'd never met a woman of any age who could.

  When he discovered that Kimberlee had already left for the day, he was hugely disappointed. Raul said she had a doctor's appointment.

  “Is she okay?” Jack asked anxiously, surprising both of them.

  Raul's eyebrows shot up. “As far I know, she's fine. I think it's one of those annual checkups the medical establishment subjects women to. Thank God we don't have to go through that.”

  Jack relaxed somewhat. “And besides that, she's okay, right? I mean, you know, she's been acting strange,” he hedged.

  Raul laughed outright, “You got it bad, my friend.”

  “What?” He replied, uncomfortable.

  “She got to you,” Raul said with a sympathetic smile.

  “What are you talking about?” Jack dodged.

  “Don't worry, Buddy, I understand. If I were single, I'd be looking closely all of a sudden too. Something's happening over there. Something inter-r-resting.” Raul drew out the last word as he unwrapped a piece of gum.

  Jack took the opening. “What do you think it is?”

  Raul shook his head and spoke around the wad in his mouth. “I honestly don't know. Since you saw her last week, she's been even more strange. She took my head off yesterday. That's nothing unusual. It's awful but I'm used to it from women.”

  He grinned. “But this time she came back and apologized. That was weird and unprecedented. She's been d
ifferent since.”

  “How so?” Jack asked.

  “Hmm. Softer. Gentler. Not in a weak way …,” Raul mused. “Calm, I guess, more relaxed. Not as on-guard.”

  Jack listened with interest. What's behind all this? What could produce such a change?

  Raul laughed again. “I guess this means I'll be seeing more of my old pal?”

  Jack felt himself redden. He was unable to remember the last time that happened.

  KIMBERLEE was relieved that their Wednesday night session was moved to her grandparents’ house. Given the preview Claudia had given her, it seemed a more appropriate environment. Give up the right to emasculate men. Can I do that?

  If someone had proposed that even a week ago, she would have thought Never. But her entire world had changed since then. From listening to Scott wax poetic about accounting and observing other women emasculate men; from finding out Raul had plans for her future, and witnessing the demise of Melissa's marriage with a different point of view. Those things in themselves may have been enough to convince her. Then the most unthinkable person did the most unthinkable thing…

  It was rare for Raul to contact her when she was out of the office. Hence her surprise to see his number show up on her phone as she left the gynecologist.

  “Hey Raul. Is there a problem?”

  “Um. Hi, Kimberlee,” Raul started, sounding uncomfortable. “I was, uh, checking up on you.”

  “What for?” Huh? This has never happened, she thought.

  “Yeah, you know, you had a doctor's appointment and all.” He fumbled.

  “Everything's fine.” She hesitated, as this was a great deal more personal than they ever got. “The usual riggamaroll women go through. I'm sure Sally's filled you in.” What's this all about?

  “Oh, good. Uh, glad to hear it.” Raul replied tentatively.

  Overcome by curiosity, she asked, “What's going on? You've never checked up on me before.”

  He hesitated, clearing his throat. She knew he only did that when he was in unfamiliar territory.

  “It's Jack. He's worried about you.” Raul replied and added hastily, “But you can't tell him I told you. He'd throttle me.”

  Kimberlee nearly dropped her phone. Jack?

  When she recovered, she asked, “Are we talking about the same Jack? Mr. Cool?”

  Raul laughed and his voice returned to normal. “Yep, you got it. Mr. Cool. Only he's not that cool these days. You got his heart thumping.”

  Kimberlee's own heart skipped a beat. Now she was the one fumbling, “I'm not quite sure what to do with this information.”

  He laughed again. “There's nothing to do. Keep being yourself. It's marvelous.”

  She hung up after mumbling an embarrassed “Thank you.” Flabbergasted, she replayed the conversation in her head. Jack was worried about me? She thought again, dumbfounded. After she calmed down, she tried to analyze this turn of events. It seemed a good opportunity to practice: “What if there's a good reason for that?”

  She and Jack had a long, unpleasant history. The first time they met, he had openly noticed her figure and indicated strong approval. She was frightened; anything that smacked remotely of lust scared the bejesus out of her. She had responded in her usual manner: she studiously ignored him. What else was there to do? For years she steeled herself and walked by as if he wasn't there, though she could feel his eyes following her.

  Oh dear, she thought now, that's emasculating. Her internal voice replied, But he deserved it.

  It was obvious, in light of Claudia's teachings, that Jack's response followed the pattern of emasculation. As she ignored him, he became more blatant. Admit it: he began treating me with a little disdain instead of respect. She realized that there had been no disrespect in his initial appraisal; that had grown over time.

  As she thought about this, her opinion of him softened somewhat. But she couldn't reconcile how angry his attitude made her feel. She felt objectified; reduced to one dimension. That's why she'd started thinking of him as a jerk, a letch, an asshole.

  Until last week when his appraisal occurred as genuine appreciation. Uplifting instead of diminishing. She hadn't felt like a sex object. She'd felt beautiful.

  She remembered his expression as she'd studied his face, thinking, “What if there's a good reason…?” Apparently he'd been affected by that moment as well.

  He was worried about me. That sounds protective. The sudden insight stunned her. She had stopped emasculating Jack in that one interaction. And he'd immediately become protective of me. Is that possible?

  Claudia had said women were interfering with men's natural relationship to them. She had not believed her. But now she had evidence. In a nanosecond, an apparent attacker—in the form most frightening to Kimberlee—had become a protector. Kimberlee couldn't deny the effect on her. Knowing Jack was worried about her made her feel safer, as if she had another ally in the world. A big, strong, resourceful one.

  Even with this new, warm feeling, she was angry about being objectified. Kimberlee resolved to ask Claudia about it. She didn't feel comfortable with giving up the right to emasculate men if it meant they'd be allowed to reduce her to one dimension.

  CLAUDIA waited until they were settled at the garden table with tea and coffee and cookies. The outdoor lights cast shadows around them, making the large garden seem smaller and cozier. She lit a large candle and placed it in the middle of the table with a hurricane glass around it.

  They began by sharing their composite list of ways women emasculate men. When Claudia wanted more detail, Kimberlee and Karen briefly recounted their experiences with observing emasculation since Saturday, including Kimberlee and Claudia's “emergency” conversation.

  By the time they were finished, Claudia couldn't help but smile at them. She knew from Kimberlee's phone call that the younger woman was on the threshold of a new paradigm. Now she knew that Karen's commitment to partnership with Mike had brought her there as well.

  She enjoyed the satisfaction for a moment and pressed on with a silent prayer, Please God, let them make this leap of faith. In themselves. In men. Reluctantly she added, In me.

  “As Kimberlee has relayed,” Claudia began, “the invitation before you is to give up the right to castrate men, forever. I want to take some time to explain exactly what I mean and do not mean by this.”

  Kimberlee interrupted, “Claudia, before you go on, there's something I need to ask you about. Something that would prevent me from being able to do this.”

  “Of course, dear. Ask me anything,” Claudia responded, welcoming the dialogue.

  “There's been a change in the way a man is relating to me. It's as if you wrote the script. I stopped emasculating him and he's become protective of me,” Kimberlee stated.

  “That's wonderful,” Claudia smiled.

  “But I'm still upset about how he used to relate to me. He objectified me. I hate that more than anything. It makes me furious. And it makes me think he deserved to be emasculated. That any man who does that deserves to be emasculated.”

  Claudia smiled and replied, “Yes, objectification. I am glad you brought it up. It is one of the things I wanted to cover.” She noticed Kimberlee's immediate relief and thought, Kimberlee wants to give this up. She is hoping this hiccup will not stop her. Good.

  She began, “Kimberlee, objectification is the female equivalent of emasculation. That is why it makes you experience rage and fury.”

  “Why do they do it?” Kimberlee asked, clearly missing the reference.

  At that moment, Claudia saw Burt closing up his shop and it gave her an idea.

  BURT had been watching the body language from his position at his workbench. Claudia was committed, Karen looked sad and resolute, and Kimberlee was obviously conflicted. On the one hand, her young face was more radiant than could be explained by the candlelight. On the other, the scrunch of Kimberlee's small shoulders belied some doubt.

  As he made his way towards the house, he was surprised when
Claudia waved him over.

  “Sweetheart, did you need something?” He asked.

  Claudia smiled up at him but her eyes were serious. “Burt, I am wondering if you would be willing to provide a man's perspective on a touchy subject.”

  “If it'll help, I'd be glad to. What's the subject?”

  “Objectification.”

  After a moment, Burt replied, “Ah, yes. Touchy, indeed. What do you need to know?”

  Claudia reached up and squeezed his arm. “I am sorry to have sprung this on you since we have never talked about it before. But I am counting on your long history as a man. Could you think about your interactions with women and remember times when you have been compelled to objectify them? And explain to us the mental process?”

  Well, now, that's an interesting request. He rubbed his nearly bald head as three incidences came to mind. He trusted that Claudia knew where this might lead; he counted on her to not be hurt. And if she was, that she'd tell him and let him fix it.

  It didn't feel right to tower over them, so he squatted next to Claudia's chair. Slowly, he began, “The most obvious, of course, is sexual objectification.”

  He looked to Claudia for approval, and received a nod and a smile. He proceeded, “There was a time when I was in the Navy. We were on leave in the Orient and visited what you might call a ‘Gentlemen's Club.’” He cleared his throat.

  All the women nodded their understanding. Claudia didn't seem upset and he continued, “One of the dancers began performing right in front of us. Her overt invitation, her movements—they overwhelmed me. I felt overpowered. I thought, ‘Harlot,’ and instantly she was reduced to something manageable. I was in control again.”

  He watched as Claudia looked around the table. Karen was nodding and Kimberlee's eyes were wide.