I want a 6 pack more than most people want to draw their next breath.
Wait, ok that was a little dramatic. Let me start over:
I would kill 90 endangered whales for a 6 pack.
…There. I think I really hit the nail on the head without using hyperbole. I find it’s really important to be accurate and to never embellish details.
Let me be the most accurate: I want a body that makes dudes cream their panties when they see it. I want men to get a glimpse of my rockin’ bod and I want them to have a cum-splosion in their underoos.
Let us take a photo journey to document my progress from Lanky Twink to… Older Lanky Twink…
(Thankfully I’ve been slutty since the birth of the Facebook so finding shirtless pictures of me wasn’t terribly difficult)
And now. DRUMROLL PLEASE….. TODAY:
And I am still NOT satisfied. All jokes aside, I literally did an ab workout while listening to Beyonce’s “Pretty Hurts” and crying. CRYING. Just in case you were wondering, crying makes a workout much harder. I’m already wheezing from the physical exertion, and then you add me choking on my boogers… not fun. It’s about as fun as sticking your weiner between the box spring and the mattress 😉
But I am not satisfied. I am aware that I’ve come a long way. I am aware that some people would KILL to have the body with which I am dissatisfied. But all I can think is: I WANNA LOOK LIKE THIS:
Note: I AM THE CREEPIEST. My friend showed me this picture today and I found it again and I saved it to my phone like a STALKER. But his body is SICCCCCCCCK.
I would literally do anything to look like that. I don’t know why. Maybe I’ve been brainwashed by the media’s definition of beauty. Maybe I’m destined to always want what I don’t have. Maybe I’m convinced that if I had this body that I would get whatever I wanted; I’d never get cheated on; no one would ever leave me, etc. The craziest thing is that I get SO MAD when I’m treated like a sex object but all I want is to look LIKE A SEX OBJECT. I’m nuts. I’m cuckoo for cocoa varts.
I realize my insanity. But I also know lots of people feel this way: I tell myself, “I’ll be satisfied when I look like this” or “I’ll be nicer to myself when I look like this.” But there will ALWAYS be something that I’m punishing myself for. Always. I’m not buff enough. I’m not flexible enough. I’m not a good enough dancer. I’m not a good enough actor. When my friend showed me this model today, I had to stop myself from crying. That’s how badly I want to look like this.
And you know what the CRAZIEST thing is??? I bet this guy pictured above has body issues, too. That BLOWS my mind. Because I think to myself, ‘Man, if I looked like that I would NEVER feel insecure about my body.’ But I’m sure he aspires to be something else. More muscular, more cut, more toned, tanner, taller, etc.
So what the fuck do I do? Do I keep shaming myself by looking at pictures of models with “better” bodies than mine? Do I keep working out 6 days a week, harder and harder, until I look like this guy up above? Do I torture myself until then?
Or do I come to terms with who/what I am today? Do I just tell myself, “Hey, James, you’re beautiful now, and you need to wake up. Because there is surely someone out there who sees you and tells themselves, ‘Man, if I looked like that, I would never be insecure about my body”? Maybe I just start giving myself credit for the work I’ve done. Maybe I admire the hard work it takes for people to get crazy bodies without discrediting all the hard work I’ve done on myself.
Instead of beating myself up for not being able to do the splits like the other dancers in my show, I should look at this picture and remind myself that 6 years ago I couldn’t touch my freakin’ toes:
Maybe instead of beating myself up for not nailing every tap step in the show, I should remember this: I saw 42nd Street at the Overture Center in Madison when I was in high school, and I couldn’t buffalo to save my life-alo! I watched 42nd Street in AWE thinking, ‘Holy fuck, I wish I could tap dance like that…..’
AND NOW I’M TAP-DANCING IN 42ND STREET PROFESSIONALLY, GOD DAMNIT.
Maybe I’m not the greatest tap dancer.
Maybe I’m not the most flexible person.
Maybe I don’t have the most muscular body.
But I’m working my fucking ass off, and I deserve credit for that.
(I’m talking to you, James. Be nice. Be your own best friend. There are plenty of people out there that are gonna be mean to you. Don’t be one of them; be one of the good guys. Ok?)
“Pretty hurts, we shine the light on whatever’s worse
Perfection is a disease of a nation, pretty hurts, pretty hurts
Pretty hurts, we shine the light on whatever’s worse
You’re tryin’ to fix something but you can’t fix what you can’t see
It’s the soul that needs the surgery.”
~”Pretty Hurts” by Beyonce