Next Friday I’m going to be at the CSPC’s Women on Top play party meeting the woman who responded to my personal ad and then had to Raincheck our previous plans. This means I’m going to be shirtless (at least) in public and right now, I feel pretty damn good about that.
I’ve be going to the gym six days a week for five months now and it’s paying off. I feel great, and I feel great about my body. Honestly I catch sight of myself in the mirror and I could just stand there Buffalo-Billing for days.
Now, of course it hasn’t always been this way for me. While I haven’t been ruthlessly socially conditioned to hate my body, I was never encouraged to feel particularly proud of it either. Body image issues never had me depressed, or desperate for a change, but I’ve often been unhappy with the way I look, especially in pictures. During my teen years I was very reluctant to pose for any photographs because I always hated how I looked in them.
The earliest I can remember being unhappy with my appearance was unsuccessfully trying to cut a cowlick out of my hair as a child. I then through the cut hair away and lied about it.
Years later, I recall some peer of mine getting attention for his six pack, (the sort of six pack that just appears on skinny guys) whereas I was, not fat, but a tad doughy. I was tall and broad shouldered, but never had the chiseled musculature that got attention from girls. Much of my early teens was spent in baggy clothing.
And then, I got acne. Truly awful acne, everywhere and constantly from eighth grade onward I was never without a crop of pimples. That really killed me, because I like my face. I knew I was handsome just under my greasy spotty skin, but other people couldn’t see it. I had a smattering of high school rejections that I am fairly certain can be attributed to that.
Sophomore year I got on Accutane, which nuked my skin for about five or six months and I haven’t dealt with zits since.
With clear skin, I felt a great deal better about myself, however I still had a doughy physique (once described as Will-Ferrel-esque by a friend of mine.)
It has also been helpfully pointed out that I’ve got puffy nipples. In fact their puffiness, is part of the reason I chose to get them pierced, since when erect, in the cold they don’t look so puffy I was hoping the piercings might cause them to stay erect and… well that didn’t work out, they’re still puffy but they’re fine.
And then I started going to the gym even though it’s hard and bores me to tears, and that brings us up to today, where I am finally feeling really consistently good about appearance.
Anyway, at the munch I went to last weekend, I mentioned that I get sort of nervous to someone, and they kind of derisively said “Well, at least you’re hot so that should help.” Which didn’t make me feel as good as compliments about my appearance normally do, it felt more like an attack than a a compliment.
Here I work hard to take care of the body I’ve got. I work hard so I can afford to dress myself in flattering clothing. Hell, I’ve put my health at risk to improve my appearance (look at the side effects of Accutane.) I never leave the house without showering, shaving and doing my hair (another lesson from my teen years) I put all this effort into looking good and I still only feel sexy on occasion, I rarely get told that I’m attractive, really, the only person who tells me I’m handsome is my mother.
I guess I just feel like bragging at the moment. I feel good, and pretty fucking sexy and I feel proud that I’ve gotten to this point.