Felt cute, might delete later

I’m going to consider this a reminder to myself to read ‘Man Enough’ by Justin Baldoni.

A few days ago I finished a quick workout at home and, since I was feeling pretty good in myself and about how I looked, I took a bathroom selfie. I don’t think I’ve ever actually posted anything like this before - and rarely ever thought of doing it, it just never felt like me - but in all honesty there was definitely a part of me that felt like sharing it would boost my self-esteem. But if I already felt good about myself, why did I feel the need to share it? Why did I want external validation?

Thinking back I don’t think I ever really starting thinking about how I felt in my body until I was at college, and even then it took a while. I can’t remember ever looking at myself and thinking “this should be different” or “I wish I looked more like x person”, which knowing how many people struggle with that is a pretty lucky place to start. But I do remember the first time I actually felt ashamed about my body, and it didn’t start with me.

I’m not afraid to admit that I’m a hairy guy - and moving to the US I always found it strange that body hair was frowned upon - but still, it never bothered me. I freely walked around on hot days with tank tops on, never thinking twice about my appearance, hairy shoulders and all. And then, one day, I got a comment by a total stranger at college - in the most public of spaces, the food court. In a loud voice this totally unknown guy calls out at me “nice sweater”, gesturing at my body hair, and there it was, the moment my confidence started slipping.

I immediately stopped wearing tank tops in public, became self-conscious when going swimming, and started seeing my body in relation to others. This soon extended to body type, and I began to see myself as I was being seen by other men around me - as the skinny, slight, hairy guy. Skinny and slight became related to weakness, so I took that feeling on, and the hair was always perceived as making me undesirable to others.

The super white guy at the front who is obviously trying his best to flex his abs next to a bunch of Crossfit guys? That’s me.

This is where I realise I began to try and compensate in a way that hadn’t felt accessible to me before - in fitness. Although I never fully went the gym route, I started doing P90X in the dorms at college, took up running, and before I knew it I’d signed up for my first Spartan Race. I recognised that I definitely had an edge in those kinds of sports, and I took a certain pride in being the small, hairy guy who could outstrip everyone with sheer speed, and that gave me a boost within myself. It was short-lived, however.

Any time I sensed my body slip - in ability, stamina, or even the slight, athletic look I had - I felt shame, and it’s something I still battle with. So this self-esteem I’d found in looking to my body for answers was as fragile as the body it relied on to exist. Now, don’t get me wrong. I recognise that I am naturally slim, that my body type allows me to look ‘fit’ with very little effort, and I recognise that it’s a privilege given how we treat bodies and how we assign worth based on weight/perceived health.

Time passes, and as I get older I find myself looking to my body as if to say “great, I’m still worthy - as long as I can still look a certain way”. News flash - at some point my metabolism will slow, my grey hairs will outstrip my brown, and my body will get more & more out of my control. And if I imagine how I’m going to feel if I try and keep up this body-based self-esteem and suddenly see an older male body in the mirror, well then my entire confidence structure will crash.

This is scary to write. Scary because I still struggle with my body, with showing myself more openly to people. And I absolutely find myself thinking, “why should it matter? I should be able to be above this - it doesn’t really mean anything at all”. But in the words of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, “the reality of man is his thought …”. So wherever my mind is at, whatever world I create there, is real to me.

So I posted the selfie - definitely halfway between “I did it because I feel good about myself” and “I did it because I want people to like me”. I did it anyway. I want to just be able to say “hey, you know what - you worked out, you’re feeling good, and you want to share that”, and maybe I’ll get there some day. But for now, I’m on my journey of acceptance, of trying to let go of body-based social value, and just love where I’m at in life right now.

And yeah, I should probably go and read ‘Man Enough’ right now.