I got called a Bro: Mike's Tumble Down the Self-Perception Rabbit Hole

I got called a bro.  And I'm troubled.

  Earlier this week I was at a live music show in Ames, Iowa with my good friend. We'll call him Bill for this story.  We laughed, danced, sang, drank beers, and had a merry good time.  We casually carried on amongst ourselves and a few of his female friends.  A good time was had by all.

And then everything changed.

  We returned back to Des Moines to meet up with a separate group of his friends at The Royal Mile, an awesome English pub style bar.  Whilst enjoying "Fancy Beer Whatever" we all engaged in fun, lighthearted, casual conversation.  

  I found myself in a very nice conversation with a blonde 20-something female named Allison.  Allison was very kind.  She explained to me that she is a law student at Drake.  She further explained upon my inquiry that she was going into divorce law specifically. I was intrigued and asked her why divorce law.  Allison told me she wanted to help mediate divorces because she was a child of not one but two divorces and wanted to make the transition as smooth as possible for the children.  

Wow, I thought.  An intelligent, attractive, female with a heart!

  And then Bill slurred his way into the conversation.  Bill fumbled into the conversation with something to the likes of, "Hey Allison! You meet my BRO Mike!?"

And everything went down hill from there.

  Allison replied to Bill with judgement in her eyes, "Yeah, your friend Mike is a bit of a bro..."

And my stomach proceeded to fall out of my dick hole.

NO ALLISON! NOOOOO!

  We were having a good conversation.  We were talking about our goals and aspirations!  I was giving you non-confrontational body language!  I WAS MAKING STEADY CONSISTENT EYE CONTACT!  HOW COULD YOU!?

  I immediately flailed to defend myself.  I asked her why she thought I was a bro.  She pointed to the way I was dressed.  Slim fitting pants, an Express t-shirt covered by a heather grey cardigan, and boat shoes.  She mentioned my physique.  She even had the audacity to say I was hitting on her.

And then the conversation shifted.  But it was too late.  The damage had already been done.

  I was left, swirling, with my own thoughts and feels.  How could this flow-y dress wearing hipster girl, who now suddenly reeked of PBR, organic soap, and self righteousness call ME and BRO!?

And this is where my trouble begins.

  Upon leaving the bar I raised the issue to Bill, desperately seeking affirmation from my friend that Allison was overly judgement and completely unfounded.  But no such relief from my despair was found.  Bill told me that I exude "bro-ness" to those around me., quoting the same reasons Allison had given me only minutes earlier.  And further I fell down the rabbit hole.

  Bill's a smart guy but I needed a second, third, and fourth opinion to be sure.  And it only got worse.  All of my friends not only agreed with Allison and Bill's diagnosis of me being a bro, but they also questioned me.  All of them saying, "You seriously didn't know that you're a bro?"

I felt like one of those women on "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant."

  I was completely blind sided by not only this perfect strangers perception of me, but also some of my closest friends perception of me.  I have always identified as the grey area between hipster and bro.  I listen to jazz music while I bench press.  I take gluten free protein bars with me to Army training.  I wear slim fitting jeans and sarcastic t-shirts of cartoons from my childhood.  I read astronomy news articles while I prepare my meals for the week.  I have always enjoyed all the stereotypical aspects of both lifestyles.

I never thought I was just one specifically.

  A "bro" to me, is a entitled white male between the ages of 18 and 25.  They can be seen at your local sports bar wearing RVCA trucker hats, tank tops, and Reef flip flops.  Common topics of discussion include sports of any kind, that dumb sophomore they hooked up with last weekend, and that epic time they won at Edward Forty Hands.  Don't expect any type of intelligible conversation out of this type as they are too busy knocking back shots of Fireball and admiring their own triceps as they just started a new body building program last week. A bro's most likely course of action on any given night is to slam a bottle of Admiral Nelson with other bros and continue out to their favorite Darin Beck establishment to pursue this weeks flavor of blonde or brunette.

Have I painted a terrible enough picture for you yet?

 So, to me, to be associated in ANY capacity with what I view as the lowest form of human existence was like being punched in the soul by some bro's favorite UFC fighter.

  But why get so butt-hurt over one seemingly harmless comment?  Does this random strangers opinion of me have any real impact on my life?  Does her labeling me a bro therefore make me a bro?  Was Descartes right? "I bro, therefore, I am bro."  (exact quote)

  Self perception is tricky.  We want people to see us for who we believe ourselves to be.  We dress a certain way, behave a certain way in order to be perceived how we want to be perceived.  Where I went wrong was believing that this girls topical observation of me defined who I am.  But after much thought I have realized that very few people see us and appreciate us for who we truly are.  These people are called our family and our closest friends.  These are the people that will see through your quirks, your defense mechanisms, and your "social masks" and truly understand you.  And as long as you have some good ol' self love, who really gives a shit what anyone else thinks?

  As much as I detest, "Haters gonna hate," there is something to be said about this phrase.  And I believe it is the most applicable solution to bring me out of the rabbit hole.  Everywhere you go in life whether it be at work, in the gym, or at your local bar, people are going to judge you.  Others may not like what you do or who you are.  They will pretend to be better than you, raise their nose to you, and scoff.  And the best advice I can give you is something I am learning myself.  You do you boo boo.


With good health and strong hamstrings,
Mike