Philogynist

Philogynist: One who loves and adores Women.

I like that. It’s a word I discovered today on another blog. (Yes, I have begun visiting other blogs again and later tonight I will visit some of my neglected regular favorites – Trisia, Kat, LGS and Chase, especially, who have faithfully commented here this month, hitherto unrequited.)

Philogynist is not quite as New Agey and blasphemy-tinged as gynolatry, the worship of Woman as Deity. Most Women don’t care for gynolatry on Their behalf but They could tolerate a few more philogynists in the world.

Philogynist.

One who treasures Women’s company and values Their contributions in every field of human endeavor. One who vows to never use his physical strength to lay a hurtful hand upon any Woman – and who also vows that his tongue shall never speak words of denigration.

One who thrills to have literature by Women on his bookshelf, art by Women on his walls and the musical voices of Women predominating in his musical collection.
The very sight of a Woman’s typically gentle handwriting on paper gives him pleasure, the sound of Her name sings like music in his ears and he thrills to them all, from Abigail to Zena. He exults in a passing trace of perfume or a girlish giggle going by. He loves all the parts – and the whole, and equally as much the Woman who by birth, accident or surgery does not fit the typical pattern.

A philogynist speaks up and speaks out against misogyny and strives to excise any trace of it from his own being. He affirms Women as fully equal and then some; he celebrates the amazing threads that Women weave in the tapestry of humanity.

Philogynist. I really like that word, even if my computer spell checker doesn’t.

It is not a boast. It is not about being Romeo or fancying one’s self as some kind of “God’s gift to Women.” It is simply recognition by a man – or a Woman -- that Women are amazing, wonderful , fascinating, magical, valuable, powerful, intelligent, gifted beings, and then living daily in awed adoration of Them. Or, for a Woman, it is living a life of confidence in Your potential, standing up for Your Sisters and being fiercely and joyously proud to be a Woman.

She may be 90 years old, white haired and physically frail with a faltering memory. Still, She is Woman and lovely even in the twilight of Her life, as an angel in the memories of the people that She has blessed.

She may be poor and illiterate, Her face bearing the scars of the struggle to survive. Still, She is Woman and beautiful by birthright.