Becoming a Man

symbolic image

A man is not a fact. A man is a position—a state of being in relation to the Law, to desire, and to lack.

We are often told what a “man” is: strong, responsible, successful, composed.
But those are just images, roles, myths.

A man is not a fact. A man is a position inside yourself.

Not in your muscles. Not in your wallet. Not even in your age.

To become a man (or better a "symbolic man") is to step out of the role of the child—not because you hate the child, but because you can’t live your whole life waiting, pleasing, proving, or hiding.

The child wants wholeness. The man accepts lack.

Gender and Subjectivity

This position of “man” is not bound by gender.

Anyone, regardless of gender identity, can step into the position of a “man” in the psychoanalytic sense—just as anyone can also occupy the position of a “woman,” understood not as a biological category, but as a different structure of relation to language, to lack, and to pleasure.

These are positions, not identities. And you don’t choose them once. You fall into them, resist them, grow into them over time.

The Position of the Child

In psychoanalysis, the child is not just someone young. It’s a role assigned by the desires and fantasies of others.

  • The one who wants to be loved completely.
  • The one who tries to fix what’s broken in the parents.
  • The one who lives inside the Other’s desire.
  • The one who waits to be recognized, chosen, or saved.

The child is often spoken about, but does not yet speak from their own name.
He or she is a reflection, a placeholder, a projection—often loved for something, but rarely for their own desire.

The Position of the Man

To become a man is to say:

I am not your solution.
I am not your mirror.
I am not your waiting child.

Instead:

I speak from my own name.
I take responsibility for my lack.
I live by a desire that is mine—not inherited.

This is not arrogance. It’s not toughness. It’s structure.

A man is someone who:

  • Encounters the Law (limits, rules, symbolic order) and takes a place inside it.
  • Encounters desire and claims his own, even if it costs him.
  • Encounters lack and doesn’t collapse—they build from it.

This structure is not exclusive to men. It’s a position that can be claimed by anyone seeking a subjectivity shaped by the Law, symbolic loss, and responsible desire.

Likewise, the position of the woman is not reducible to biology either. She lives partly outside the system of roles and rules—not incomplete, but excessive.

psychoanalytic diagram

The Shift

Sometimes, becoming a man is just a sentence:

“I am a man, not a child.”

And something inside you shifts.

  • You stop waiting.
  • You stop asking for permission.
  • You stop trying to be what they wanted.

You speak.
You move.
You walk forward—not because you are certain, but because you are done begging.

This Is Not Easy

Leaving the position of the child doesn’t mean forgetting what was done to you.
It means no longer staying frozen in that role.

You might still feel shame, fear, rejection. But you no longer organize your life around them.

You organize around something else:

  • Your name.
  • Your desire.
  • Your choice.

This is what psychoanalysis calls a subject: someone who isn’t just being acted upon, but someone who acts, speaks, and positions themselves.

Final Words

You are not the child they used.
You are not the waiting boy.
You are not here to be approved.

You are a man.
Not because of age, or strength, or size, or genitalia—but because you stood up, accepted lack, and walked toward your own desire.

You stopped living in their fantasy.
You wrote your own name.

A Question for You

What’s one way you’ve noticed the child still shows up in your adult life?

And what would it mean to say, today—even quietly:

I am not a child anymore. I am a man.

Also published on Lacanian Online (Substack)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Unmasking Evil: The Truth Behind Our Darkest Desires

Image
Evil, as an action, could be a thought, but that is usually forgotten, a damned intranscendent mental Sin. In general, evil is only evil when it becomes action and comes out of us as a manifestation of our darkness. But, as an action, it is not inherently evil; rather, it is evil only in relation to other actions or, better yet, perceptions of actions—interpretations. Above all, evil is a function of one's relationship with one's manque, the fundamental lack that structures one's desire. Most of the time, what is evil is not determined by an external reaction, but by the accusation of one's inner Other, nor by the moral codifications that attempt to define it. Rather, evil’s true weight emerges in the subjective coordinates of one's own lack, in how one's act situates itself in relation to this void that constitutes one. In Lacanian psychoanalysis, the subject is always structured around the manque-à-être—the lack of being. It is this absence that fuels desire, ...
Read more

The Anxious Cat: The Case of Q

Image
Everybody who has had pets knows that they all have unique personalities, fears, and desires, and in some cases, they can experience emotions such as shame, guilt, playfulness, and anxiety. I have been living with a cat for some time now. During this period, I have learned to understand him beyond his normal behavior; I can recognize when he is anxious. In Lacanian psychoanalysis, anxiety arises from the delicate and ever-shifting interplay between three fundamental registers of human psyche: the Imaginary, the Symbolic, and the Real. The inherent tension and potential for disruption within their interconnectedness generate anxiety. Here's a brief breakdown: The Imaginary: This realm encompasses identification, the ego, and the formation of the self through specular images and identifications with others. It is where we develop a sense of bodily unity and coherence, primarily during the mirror stage, when an infant recognizes themselves in the mirror. This sense of self, however,...
Read more

The Cat F. and her object of desire

Image
There is a toy the cat I live with, F., loves. A small, insignificant object by itself—a hair band—but for her, it is everything. She plays with it, run with it, and then—loses it. Again and again, it disappears under the sofa. At first, I thought it was mere accident, an unfortunate consequence of her wild enthusiasm. I would retrieve it (with difficulty, moving the whole big and heavy sofa), place it back in front of her, and she would resume the game. Then I noticed something strange: F. was not merely losing the toy—she was hiding it, pushing it carefully under the sofa and then wait. Not searching for it, not retrieving it herself, but waiting for it to come out, like a mouse. This is the game. Not the toy, not the having of it, but the not having it—the game of waiting. Lacan taught us that desire is not for the object itself, but for the dream of having it, and the wonderful things that it will make us feel. The objet petit a , that little elusive remainder, is not what we want...
Read more