truisms instead of anecdotes from caleb, for a change
If you're a parent, you are vividly impressed with the force of your child's personality. It doesn't come from you.
We didn't make my son have an interest in fighting skills. I'm only meeting him halfway if I box around with him or wrestle with him. He only does things that
he's interested in. He snaps into focus and a state of delight if I play-box with him. He doesn't respond this way to anything else I do.
People who have taken testosterone speak of the alteration in their consciousness and interests.
Men who have gotten sex reassignment therapy to become "women" and who have taken estrogen also speak of a profound change in their affect and thinking--Jan Morris, the travel writer, is one, but I only remember the passages from a New York Times Book Review.
She spoke of a complete change toward a kind of vulnerability. Maybe I can dig it up, somewhere.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jan_Morris
I also vividly recall this piece by Andrew Sullivan, who takes testosterone:
http://www.bluffton.edu/~mastg/The He Hormone.htm
from the piece:
And then after a few days, as the testosterone peaks and starts to decline, the feeling alters a little. I find myself less reserved than usual, and more garrulous. The same energy is there, but it seems less directed toward action than toward interaction, less toward pride than toward lust. The odd thing is that, however much experience I have with it, this lust peak still takes me unawares. It is not like feeling hungry, a feeling you recognize and satiate. It creeps up on you. It is only a few days later that I look back and realize that I spent hours of the recent past socializing in a bar or checking out every potential date who came vaguely over my horizon. You realize more acutely than before that lust is a chemical. It comes; it goes. It waxes; it wanes. You are not helpless in front of it, but you are certainly not fully in control.
Then there's anger. I have always tended to bury or redirect my rage. I once thought this an inescapable part of my personality. It turns out I was wrong. Late last year, mere hours after a T shot, my dog ran off the leash to forage for a chicken bone left in my local park. The more I chased her, the more she ran. By the time I retrieved her, the bone had been consumed, and I gave her a sharp tap on her rear end. "Don't smack your dog!" yelled a burly guy a few yards away. What I found myself yelling back at him is not printable in this magazine, but I have never used that language in public before, let alone bellow it at the top of my voice. He shouted back, and within seconds I was actually close to hitting him. He backed down and slunk off. I strutted home, chest puffed up, contrite beagle dragged sheepishly behind me. It wasn't until half an hour later that I realized I had been a complete jerk and had nearly gotten into the first public brawl of my life. I vowed to inject my testosterone at night in the future.
That was an extreme example, but other, milder ones come to mind: losing my temper in a petty argument; innumerable traffic confrontations; even the occasional slightly too prickly column or e-mail flame-out. No doubt my previous awareness of the mythology of testosterone had subtly primed me for these feelings of irritation and impatience. But when I place them in the larger context of my new testosterone-associated energy, and of what we know about what testosterone tends to do to people, then it seems plausible enough to ascribe some of this increased edginess and self-confidence to that biweekly encounter with a syringe full of manhood.
cp:
We have genetics, we have nurture, and we have the chemical soup.
As someone who is more motivated by his own chemical soup than the outside world or social pressures, and who is very aware of fluctuations in my own moods, Sullivan's article rings true for me.
Testosterone is what gives me a big upper body, the desire to use it, and a certain love for watching boxers beat the **** out of each other. It's that feeling of ape, of the pleasure of flexing, of moving fast, of impatience with chicken ****.
I also believe that it is quite difficult to understand the feelings and desires of someone whose chemistry is different than yours.
An example is the old feminist suspicion about pornography. Lacking that kind of response, feminists of a certain stripe concocted all kinds of theories that missed the simple mark: Men tend to like porn because it feels good. It feels good because they have that kind of appetite.
Take away the testosterone, or interrupt the libido with SSRI's, and it doesn't feel that good, and you lose interest. Then, porn seems ridiculous, because it
is.
I can remember an 80's-style feminist interrogating me about "gazes" in the porn I liked--as if that had anything to do with it. She believed in elaborate imaginary theories of dominance and power relations that could be revealed by nuances of eye-contact.
It wasn't about power, or politics, or eye-contact. It was about lust.
Well, read Sullivan, ignore what I've said.