The Relationship Handbook
The Relationship Workshop
Workshop Audio CD Bundles
Amazing Relationships eZine
Relationship Coaching
In-House Training & Speaking
Contact Kevin B. Burk
Kevin B. Burk on Facebook


Today I Am a Man

by Kevin B. Burk, author of The Relationship Handbook: How to Understand and Improve Every Relationship in Your Life.

As part of my current ďIdentity ExplorationĒ (I donít consider it to be a crisis, so Iím playing with other ways to describe this process) Iíve been questioning what it means to be a man.

Now, those of you who have read The Relationship Handbook: How to Understand and Improve Every Relationship in Your Life (and may I extend a personal thanks to each of you who have), know that this is a question that I explore in some detail in Chapter 10: ďMen are From Mars And VenusÖAnd Women Are, Too.Ē The thing is, in that chapter, I explore what it means to be a man in the eyes of society, looking at how the biological definitions of masculinity no longer serve us, and why this leaves so many men adrift.

Iím compelled to explore these issues in a deeper, more comprehensive fashion now, because right now, these questions are looming large in my own life.

In fact, Iím grappling with two different sets of questions. The question of what it means to be a man (at least to me) is, secondary to the question of what it means to be an adult.

A part of this exploration process for me has included some changes in my physical appearance. Iím letting my hair grow longer, and Iíve recently grown a Van Dyke (a moustache and goatee, in case youíre unfamiliar with the correct term for this type of facial hair). Now, Iím not really a fan of facial hair, even though I generally look good in it. After about a week, it starts to drive me up the wall and I rarely keep it much beyond that point. Of course, Iím also not a fan of having to shave, so thereís a certain appeal to having facial hair. This particular style of facial hair seems to combine the worst of both worlds: it bugs me and in order to keep it looking good, I have to shave more often than I would if I didnít have it in the first place.

Itís been quite a while since Iíve had any facial hair, even though Iíve wanted to grow a beard on several occasionsóusually when Iíve been called to do some intense introspection and inner work (itís part of my periodic hibernation process). My belief was that men with beards are unconsciously communicating that they have something to hide, and thatís not a message that I want to put out there as I market myself and my speaking career.

Almost everyone that Iíve encountered of late has complimented me on my new look. I expressed my ambivalence to two friends of mine, and they shared their perceptions with me. According to them, the Van Dyke does not convey that I have anything to hide; on the contrary, it lends me an air of gentle authority and maturity, softening my energy somewhat. Iíve been encouraged to keep it for a while, and Iím considering doing that.

The thing is that the Van Dyke does make me look more mature, and Iím realizing just how at odds that is with how I feel. The grey hair is very pronounced in my beard (itís less evident in my hair, and Iíve been going grey, very slowly, since collegeómy mom started going grey at 16) which, I suppose, lends me a very distinguished air. To look at me, youíd take me to be a mature, responsible adult. And, intellectually, I would agree with you. But on some, indefinable level, I simply donít feel like an adult.

Now, one reason for this may be that Iíve recently adopted a tribe of my younger, orphaned selves, and Iím very much in contact with my ďinner childĒ (not to mention my ďinner teenagerĒ). I suspect that as I fully integrate these parts of myself into my identity that Iíll experience a sense of completion in my life, heal many of the wounds of childhood, and feel ready to claim my identity as an adult.

However, a part of me knows that this isnít enough. What I lackedóand what the vast majority of men in our culture lackóis a rite of passage into adulthood.

The only rite of passage that I personally experienced occurred when I was 13 years old and had my Bar Mitzvah. As far as Jewish culture is concerned, on that day, I became a man. Personally, I feel that it takes more than a glass of Manichevitz, an Izod shirt and a Cross pen and pencil set to make one a man.

There are certainly other rites of passage for men in todayís society. Marriage and fatherhood are two that come to mind. They donít serve me, personally, of course, since even if I were in a committed relationship, itís not currently possible for me to get married in California, and Iím not willing to even entertain the idea of being a single parent.

So, the upshot is that Iím a 38-year-old male who, on many levels, still isnít ready to claim adulthood. I donít consider myself a boy by any means, but Iím also uncomfortable with considering myself a man. And I canít get away with calling myself a ďyoung manĒ anymore except in the most flattering and diffuse of lighting.

As I write this, Iím preparing to attend a Native American sweat lodge ceremony. Iíve participated in sweat lodges many times before; however, this lodge will be very different: itís a menís lodge.

Iíve been on an active spiritual path for fourteen years or so, and Iíve realized that in all that time, the overwhelming majority of the energy has been female. Itís rare that Iíve been in a group that had an equal balance of men and women, and Iíve never been in a primarily or exclusively male spiritual environment.

While Iím actively looking forward to this event, Iím also observing myself experiencing a great deal of fear, resistance and apprehension about it. Iíve come to realize that Iím rather threatened by male energyóor at least some aspects of male energy.

This, of course, comes from old childhood wounds. I never experienced ďmale bondingĒ in high-school, I loved theatre, had a mature and rather sophisticated sense of humor, and when a ball was thrown at me, my natural reaction was (and still is) to duck. I was overweight, self-conscious, sensitive, hated sports, and actively dreaded gym class. The hazing, teasing, and other male-bonding activities that young men engage in as they explore their identities terrified me.

Itís easy to chalk this up to being gay: always knowing on some level that I was different from the other boys, and that being different made me a natural target is an all too familiar theme. While being gay certainly contributed to this experience, I donít believe that it was the cause of it. I was not alone in my experience of being an outcast, of being excluded from the rituals of manhood, and I know that many of my fellow exiles who shared my experience were heterosexual.

Itís ironic, too, that I approach this sweat lodge with apprehensionóI will only know one other person there, and the old fears that I may be the only gay man there and that I may be threatened or ostracized for whom I am have come out of the closet and clamor for my attention. The irony is that Native American traditions actively embraced gay men; gay men were the spiritual leaders of the tribe. The term ďshamanĒ means not-man, not-woman, and shamans had the unique gift of being able to bridge the gap between the male mysteries and the female mysteries.

What Iím realizing, however, is that Iíve avoided or not had the chance to experience the male mysteries. It didnít surprise me that I was somewhat out of balance in terms of the masculine and feminine energy in my life; what surprised me was that I was lacking the masculine energy, not the feminine.

This too, is ironic, because Iím very much aware of my male ego; in fact, itís is currently throwing a fit at the thought that I may be coming across in this article as anything less than manly, masculine, and above all, butch. Of course, Iím also very much aware that this voice, these beliefs, these judgments arise because I have not learned what it truly means to be a man, at least to me. What Iíve experienced and what scares me is the shadow aspect of masculinity. Iíve yet to experience the light.

Iíve spent many years getting in touch with the Divine Feminine, and this has been a worthy and necessary pursuit, especially since the Divine Feminine is so actively repressed in our culture. But now, it seems that I need to be willing to explore and encounter the Divine Masculine--a process that in the mythological heroís journey, at least, is fraught with danger, and frequently requires a death of some sort. It is truly a journey to encounter the unknown and the unknowable, and it is not one to be taken lightly.

Iím not entirely sure of who I am now, and I have no way of knowing who I will be when I complete this next leg of my journey. I am by turns excited, apprehensive, and flat-out scared. But I am also prepared, willing, and committed to facing my fears and experiencing the unknown.

The one thing that I do know, however, is that today I am a man.

Kevin B. Burk is the author of The Relationship Handbook: How to Understand and Improve Every Relationship in Your Life. Visit for a FREE Report on creating Amazing Relationships.

©2006 Kevin B. Burk, all rights reserved. If you would like to reprint this article in your publication, web page, or eZine (which you may do for free!), click here for details.


[The Relationship Handbook] • [The Relationship Workshop] • [Audio CD Bundles]
[Articles & Excerpts] • [eZine] • [Relationship Coaching] • [In-House Training & Speaking]
[Contact Us] • [Media Resources]

©2009 Kevin B. Burk, All Rights Reserved