It is very difficult to not compare myself to the many toned and muscular male bodies that I’m surrounded by at the gym. I realize that social comparison is a contributing factor to my body image issues. It isn’t enough for me to just compare, I then internalize all of the assessments and am left in a depressed mood by the outcome. In the past I have often tried to explain this mental process as a natural and healthy form of masculine competition. Research and understanding bought on by therapy have made me confront the fact that it is quite a bit more than just a competitive spirit. The drive and obsession is unforgiving and it often makes me feel rather confused, empty and alone. Before I actually had defined the body image problem as a “competitive” process, I held the comparison in great shame. I believed it was a “feminine” behavior to compare myself to others. Society indoctrinated me to believe that women were the only ones who were to really concern themselves with looking good. They naturally engaged in social comparisons to other women because it was part of their nature to do so. Therefore, my behaving in that way made me feel non-masculine. The fact that I was gay all the more epitomized this gender doubt and made me quite depressed and it further exacerbated the shame of gender and sexuality – skewing the two. I believe it was a saving factor to my ego to redefine social comparison as “healthy masculine competitiveness”.
Whatever I may call it or understand the comparison to be – I do realize that it does affect me. This morning I arrived at the gym at 6:30 am and was flanked on either side by two good-looking men - a bit unusual since the cardio room is often filled with more women. I’ve noticed that men are doing cardio with more intensity than in the past. They by no means reach the population levels of women, but I’ve nonetheless noticed the increase. The mirrors were of no help to me (when are they ever?) since they were reflecting other men across the room who also had nice bodies. I tried not to look at them. I set my gaze on myself as it was reflected in the mirror. But you know what that does – it only makes me focus on what is wrong with my body. I start chipping away – slowly. I go through the scared and stretched skin. I chip deeper and harder through the bit of muscular armory that I’ve worked so much to achieve. With tenacity, I eventually get to the raw core – and by then I am quite sullen but still pumping away on the cardio machine. Thank god I wear a head scarf at the gym. I couldn’t digest looking at my thinning hair while working out. It would only increase my feelings of inferiority. Although a saving accessory, the scarf also causes shame because it reminds me that I’m not fully revealing who I am. It is a symbol of my attempts to hide. It states that although there is progress being made, I am still carry body dissatisfaction and disgust. In addition, the scarf conjures up thoughts of people who have true disfigurements and yet valiantly carry through their day. On a realistic plain I know that that my issues are nothing in comparison to theirs but the psychological pangs are felt all the same.
Stay well, MBI
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