A Critical Fascination With Our Presentations (PART 1)
Body Image Issues & The Late Blooming Queer Experience
This is Sitting Queerly, a newsletter focused on the late blooming queer experience, the lofty goal of opening up conversations and celebrating those who embrace their full selves.
I know we aren’t supposed to support the big corporations when it comes to Pride merchandise, but last June being my first Pride as an actual out bi/queer man, I couldn’t help myself. I saw an ad with one of Target’s Pride shirts that just says “Queer! Queer! Queer! Queer!” and had to have it.
My wife was making a Target run and asked me what size I wanted. I said XXL, kind of beating myself up in my head that I’d ballooned to a point where that size is what I need to initially look for. But, that wasn’t going to change in time for me to need Pride gear, so it is what it is.
She got back with the shirt and I excitedly tried it on and…it was too small. Well, it fit ok, but it hugged me a bit more than I like so my love handles showed. And I knew it would likely shrink in the wash and be even tighter.
“Well, I can take it back and exchange it for a 3XL,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I need now,” I replied, sighing.
My coming out brought back the adolescent insecurities, discomfort and outright disgust I used to feel about my body. It didn’t help that there were constant reminders of how I felt I didn’t measure up. On dating/cruising sites, how many guys had in their profile some variation of “must be fit?” How much of the queer art I saw was dependent on an idealized male form? There are articles written every winter and spring about how to shred that fat so you can look good in that Speedo you bought for Fire Island or Provincetown or Miami or Puerto Vallarta. And I don’t need to mention the role that gay porn has played in all this.
So, what’s a late-blooming queer with a dad bod to do?
This week’s newsletter is part of a three-part series looking at body image as it fits within the late-blooming queer experience. To start, here are a few of the things that have helped me to come to a healthier place with my body while I’ve increasingly embraced my queerness over the past year. Some of these things are backed up by research, others are just my own anecdotal experience. Your mileage may vary.
Realize that folks you think are hot af are struggling, too.
Yeah, I know, “oh boohoo, your chest isn’t bigger and you can’t quite bounce a quarter off your ass.” Meanwhile we’re over here trying to hide stretch marks, find clothes that don’t accentuate fat rolls and try not to think about the fact we have 40-inch waistlines. Still, it has helped me be kinder to myself knowing that even buff guys struggle. One UCLA professor told GQ several years ago that 90 percent of his clients, regardless of how “fit” they were, struggled with their body image. Even some of the guys I’ve come to follow on social media have driven that point home, not being afraid to show themselves off (and looking good while doing it) while also being critical of their weight or belly.
Avoid dating apps/social media or, at least, minimize use and find body positive/diverse accounts to follow
There have been countless studies, articles, editorials, etc., written on the detrimental impacts of social media. Depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts all tend to be higher among those using social media the most as they feed into comparison and competition mindsets. They negatively affect body dysmorphia, too. And queer dating apps, Grindr in particular, are possibly even worse when it comes to mental health impacts.
I acknowledge it’s pretty hard to abandon those platforms, partly because we have become so behaviorally dependent on them but also because so many aspects of our life demand we use them. How many of us use our Facebook credentials in connection to other services and websites? And while queer men don’t have to cruise discreetly anymore to get some action, modern dating culture has adapted to an online interface, for better or for worse.
But we can reduce our use or use them in healthier ways. When it comes to my Instagram, there are a few stereotypical beefcake accounts I follow. However, there are also guys who clearly have a gut and perhaps even make content that points out their own insecurities from time to time. But yet, they own it—they’re out there having fun, reveling in their relationships, happy to be themselves. Yes, I know I earlier said that the comparison and contrast mindset engendered by social media is problematic and the widely understood reality that social media distorts reality. That being said, seeing people I could relate to physically has helped me put my own insecurities in perspective and see that I don’t have to be a perfect specimen to enjoy my life and who I am.
Put your bullshit detector at max when faced with anything promoting diet/fitness culture
Keegan Hirst is a great human who was the first professional rugby player in the UK to come out and has spent his retirement from the sport in 2020 largely focused on his podcast Happy Healthy Homo and being a life coach for other gay men. He shares messages about how gay men are too focused on being “perfect” and portray themselves artificially as hypersexual as a way to compensate. Love it.
But then he shares posts like this…
…and I just…sigh.
The obsession to look like triathletes has driven men to do anything to achieve that level of fitness, and the diet and fitness industries are more than happy to oblige, and they often do so deceptively. The V Shred guy is probably the most immediately relevant example of this (with exercise science experts ripping him alongside the rest of us), but there have been plenty of others. How many articles were there about Chris Pratt’s transformation from schlub to hunk for Guardians of the Galaxy? The advertisements you see from your local racquet club that show fit-yet-everday-looking folks exercising AND smiling at the same time while a voiceover talks about how (for a modest personal training fee) you can be that, too?
And let’s not forget all the diets—paleo, intermittent fasting, macro, Atkins, the list goes on. A lot of research backs up the fact that queer folk struggle disproportionately with eating disorders than straight and cisgender individuals.
Exercise is important. Personal training as a profession does a lot of good. Fitness centers provide access to training resources that folks likely otherwise wouldn’t have access to. There are fitness coaches/personal trainers I deeply appreciate and follow such as Lex and Ron (in particular I like Ron’s You Can Do That F***ing Exercise videos) partly because they don’t do “before and after” kinds of content. And, to be fair, I don’t think Keegan is being intentionally deceptive.
But so much in fitness/diet culture relies on that same comparison/competition mindset that infects social media and twists our perspective of reality—that in order to feel good and be good, we need to look good.
It’s impossible to avoid seeing all of those advertisements or YouTube videos or social media. Just remember, they are curating what they are showing you and trying to make you insecure, which is not very cash money of them.
If you’re gonna watch porn, look for the amateur stuff
Stating the obvious: porn isn’t real. There is so much going on behind the scenes (injections to maintain erections), in the scenes (angles, lighting, fake cum) and in post-production (sound editing, scene editing), that some porn flicks rival mainstream movies in production value. And, as with a lot of what we talked about before, the typical porn actor body type skews toward the extreme.
I’m not saying you need to give up porn cold turkey. Lord knows I haven’t. But, I do use it less than I used to and I gravitate toward the amateur/homemade stuff. It feels more genuine, more relatable. There’s bad lighting and bad angles and love handles. And, honestly? That’s hot. I could be in that bedroom and having just as good a time, love handles and all.
Be real about what you LIKE about your body
I’ll go first: I like my legs (thighs in particular), my chest hair, my facial hair, my eyes. I’m even ok with the fact that I’m essentially bald because I like how I look with a shaved head. I’m even beginning to become partial to my butt, as flat as I used to think it was.
Now it’s your turn: what parts of your body do you like? Why?
Buy that Speedo/jock strap/harness etc.
The first time I wore a jock strap and looked at myself in a mirror after accepting my queerness, I was…stunned at how empowered I felt. Yes, I was seeing parts of my body I hated, but I was still feeling myself. It was confusing but in a good way.
Months later, I visited Portland for a convention and stopped in to underU4men, a queer men’s underwear and apparel store. I was disappointed at how much in the store was just outside my size range—again, a side effect of queer culture’s emphasis on physical appearance—but I did find a pair of briefs that I liked and were in my size. I’d never bought boutique underwear before and balked a bit at the price, but I decided I could splurge a little. And I love them and how I look in them and how other guys react when they see me in them.
If you’ve put off buying something like that for yourself strictly because you’re afraid you won’t look good in it, fuck that noise. Go get it and see how good you look, just like Derrick did.
Take care of your body but in a way that works for you
Most of us aren’t going rock climbing every weekend so we don’t need intense upper body and arm strength. But many of us do like gardening or woodworking or playing with our kids/nephews/nieces. Those activities do still require some level of physical fitness. Likewise, many of us are past our adolescence/early 20s when we could eat/drink anything and experience relatively few repercussions. We do have to think about how what we put into our bodies impacts heart health, can foster diabetes and so on.
So, here’s what my approach has been: I try to follow the adage of “eat less, exercise more.” I still drink WAY too much chocolate milk, have extra helpings of dessert, won’t turn down a cookie if offered. But I’m also eating more salad and veggies in general, reducing the size of portions and even, shockingly, managing to limit myself to one glass of chocolate milk in a sitting. Exercise-wise, I refuse to get a gym membership given my propensity to never use them out of a sense of intimidation as well as schedule. Years ago I would run but my knees can’t handle that anymore. So now, I have a simple workout set up at home with a hand-me-down and basic elliptical and Travel Gorilla Bow (footnote: this is not a paid endorsement, I just know this has really made it easier for me to maintain some level of strength training. It is limiting for leg stuff, though) that lets me do strength training most anywhere. I don’t push myself hard—I probably should be pushing myself harder—but I’m breaking a sweat and breathing hard after most workouts.
Has this helped me lose weight? Yes! About 20 lbs. in the past seven months. And losing weight has helped me see my body change positively. However, I still have my love handles, still have my belly, still don’t have big arms or rock hard shoulders. And my weight is ticking back up recently (thanks stress-induced eating and busy schedule). But I’m ok with all that. The biggest benefit has been to my mental health–endorphins are a hell of a mood enhancer.
Adjust your own expectations of others
Like Michael Jackson once sang, you gotta start with the man in the mirror. You can’t honestly be upset that others reject you for your body if you are doing the same. You’re still allowed to have preferences, sure, but don’t limit your social interactions strictly because someone isn’t your “type.” As Nico Lang shared in a piece in The Daily Beast years ago, “The solution to our image issues isn’t to create more stigma but to further a space for inclusion—that shows the beauty of a diverse range of body types and gender expressions. Rather than fostering a culture where everyone has to look the same to be beautiful, it’s about celebrating difference.”
Realize that there are guys who DO think you look hot af
As I said before, it’s near impossible to go about life today without having social media. The same goes for coming out late in life. There’s a strong expectation, for better or for worse, to share a photo of yourself when you join the various queer or bi-positive groups and forums. Some of these groups also have spaces or opportunities to show more than a head-and-shoulders mug shot. And like many others, I’ve obliged. Is a little of this possibly a desire for eye candy? Sure. But it’s also easier to relate to a person you can put a face to.
As a result, I have taken more selfies of myself in the past year than in the first 40 years of my life. There are car selfies (not with sunglasses, I’m not an asshole), head and shoulder selfies, full body selfies, mirror selfies, laying-in-bed selfies. I appear in everything from my Easter best and work clothes to…not much at all.
And I’ve gotten compliments on those selfies. And I’ve seen other guys get compliments on theirs, even if they don’t fit the “ideal.” Does it completely quiet my insecurities? No. But seeing someone post the hot and sweaty emoji face on one of those photos is a nice pick-me-up.
In next week’s newsletter…
For the second installment of Sitting Queerly focused on body image and positivity, I sat down (virtually) with two good friends and fellow late bloomers. Our conversation ran the gamut from how we first learned shame for our bodies, how we’ve gotten to better places with our body image, the awkwardness of communal showers after gym class, how welcoming the kink community is of all body types, which underwear brands we think are doing the best job embracing bigger guys and more.
I loved this: "Take care of your body, but in a,way that works for you." Perfect.
So many important points in there !