Fighting isn’t macho. It’s not how a man proves himself to another man or how he proves himself to a lady. Fighting has nothing to do with anything but the individual and his desire to prove to himself that he can face his fears, that he can take the pain of getting hit and hit back.
Fighting, just as it is in the metaphorical sense as we fight and claw our way to a better position in life, is completely internal. Every guy wants to know how he’d fair in a fight, and I feel bad for those who don’t know; not because they’re better men if they’re fighters, fighting, after-all, is merely a skill like skating or shooting, actually it’s more than that. Fighting is how we prove to ourselves that we’re men. It’s how we prove to ourselves that we’re not pussies, that even though we’re afraid we’ll stand and fight.
How do you know if you’re tough? How do you know that you can face one of the most basic fears we have, the fear of death through its counterpart, pain?
Fighting teaches us a lot about who we are and what we can do in the real world. It teaches us that we’re gritty and resilient or it helps us develop said virtues. Fighting on the playground in grade school was a fun activity. It’s how we used to settle disputes, shaking hands afterwards, always strengthening bonds in the process. I’ve never actually fought someone in daylight and alcohol-free that I didn’t then respect even more, and that’s how fighting should be.
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