It was a pleasant summer day. It was the kind of day where you felt a sense of euphoria rush through your body as you went outside for a morning walk, the kind of day where a slightly melted ice cream cone sounded perfect.
My friends Jason and Mike were going to a beach with their girlfriends, and I decided to tag along. I don't really remember why I agreed to go. At the time, I absolutely hated the way my body looked. I particularly did not like my bowling-ball-sized man boobs and my extremely noticeable stretch marks that resembled strands of blood dying to burst out of my abdominal area. Revealing my outer shell in public was something I never wanted to do. I avoided situations where being humiliated in front of strangers was a definite possibility, but here I was going to a beach of all places.
After getting some lunch at the sub-par sandwich shop
Scholosky's Deli, Mike + girlfriend, and I, drove over to the beach to meet up with Jason + girlfriend. When we arrived there, my anxiety went through the roof. The place was packed! It looked like
Tian'anmen Square on National Day in China. There was no way in hell I was going to "go Baywatch" and take off my shirt---I didn't want to risk getting laughed at. It was a pretty small beach too...There was no way my figure would go unnoticed.
Before I was able to analyze the situation to the best of my abilities, Mike was already in the water encouraging me to go in as well. Mike weighed about as much as I did, and he clearly didn't give a shit about what other people thought of his physical appearance. To this day, I still admire that quality about him. I lacked the self-confidence that empowered him at that very moment.
After much deliberation and peer pressure, I finally went into the water...with my shirt on. What was suppose to be a nice and rejuvenating swim, turned into an uncomfortable struggle. Now that I think about it, I probably drew
even more attention from people because I was awkwardly wearing a huge brown shirt, drenched and stuck firmly to my
fat ass. God, I was an idiot.
Eventually, the shirt did come off. I was still as self-conscious as ever though. When I was in the water, I would make sure I was almost completely submerged. And when I got out of the water, I would put my arms around my man boobs to cover them up. They absolutely had to stay concealed.
Whenever I think about this experience, it just reminds me of how little self-esteem I had. Why couldn't I just stop obsessing about what other people thought? Why couldn't I be more like my friend Mike? Why couldn't I just stop worrying? Ugh, what kind of life was I living?
Swimsuit season is fast approaching. Yes, I still have my man boobs, and yes, I still have a rather large gut. It's going to be different this time, though. I'm not going to let my body image issues get in the way of having fun at the beach.
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Now playing:
MGMT - Time to Pretendvia FoxyTunes
My friends Jason and Mike were going to a beach with their girlfriends, and I decided to tag along. I don't really remember why I agreed to go. At the time, I absolutely hated the way my body looked. I particularly did not like my bowling-ball-sized man boobs and my extremely noticeable stretch marks that resembled strands of blood dying to burst out of my abdominal area. Revealing my outer shell in public was something I never wanted to do. I avoided situations where being humiliated in front of strangers was a definite possibility, but here I was going to a beach of all places.
After getting some lunch at the sub-par sandwich shop Scholosky's Deli, Mike + girlfriend, and I, drove over to the beach to meet up with Jason + girlfriend. When we arrived there, my anxiety went through the roof. The place was packed! It looked like Tian'anmen Square on National Day in China. There was no way in hell I was going to "go Baywatch" and take off my shirt---I didn't want to risk getting laughed at. It was a pretty small beach too...There was no way my figure would go unnoticed.
Before I was able to analyze the situation to the best of my abilities, Mike was already in the water encouraging me to go in as well. Mike weighed about as much as I did, and he clearly didn't give a shit about what other people thought of his physical appearance. To this day, I still admire that quality about him. I lacked the self-confidence that empowered him at that very moment.
After much deliberation and peer pressure, I finally went into the water...with my shirt on. What was suppose to be a nice and rejuvenating swim, turned into an uncomfortable struggle. Now that I think about it, I probably drew even more attention from people because I was awkwardly wearing a huge brown shirt, drenched and stuck firmly to my fat ass. God, I was an idiot.
Eventually, the shirt did come off. I was still as self-conscious as ever though. When I was in the water, I would make sure I was almost completely submerged. And when I got out of the water, I would put my arms around my man boobs to cover them up. They absolutely had to stay concealed.
Whenever I think about this experience, it just reminds me of how little self-esteem I had. Why couldn't I just stop obsessing about what other people thought? Why couldn't I be more like my friend Mike? Why couldn't I just stop worrying? Ugh, what kind of life was I living?
Swimsuit season is fast approaching. Yes, I still have my man boobs, and yes, I still have a rather large gut. It's going to be different this time, though. I'm not going to let my body image issues get in the way of having fun at the beach.
----------------
Now playing: MGMT - Time to Pretend
via FoxyTunes