I think I have had a few different perspectives throughout my life about my body. When I was young I played lots of sports. Throughout high school I played basketball (some years on three teams) and lacrosse. Sometimes I played up to eight hours a day. Until then, because of basketball’s limited aerobic exercise, I would get the occassional comment about how I needed to run more to improve my ability to not get too tired on the court. Looking back on it, I think I took that as me being not in good enough shape. This translated as to me as something akin to being overweight, though I was not, but luckily I was too busy “trying to score chicks” to care. Ahhh… my slutty male peer group. The first time I ever really because self-concious about my body was when my high school coach had us start weight lifting. My arms have always been skinny–indeed, my whole upper body. On the other hand, I have hugely powerful legs. While I could not manage to lift much weights with my arms, I was terribly proud of my ability to do the whole rack with my legs. But, I never got terribly concerned about it.

Another episode was when my child was born. Her mother and I became very sedentary. I gained lots of sympathy weight and stopped playing basketball. So, before this period I was 6′ and 170. After this I was over 220… probably up to 230. Now, I didn’t really notice or care at the time, however, because I was retreating into myself because of a bad and emotionally abusive relationship. It was only when I moved and split up with this person that I started to play basketball again. Ever since I have been waffling back and forth between 200 and 230. Now, this isn’t necessarily a big issue for me, but at one point before I started playing alot (3-4 times a week) I could balance a cup on my tummy. The looks that illicited were humorous and noteworthy. Because I’d been a feminist since my first forays into University life I’d been conscious of the whole weight and body image issues problem, and had always been telling my friends (who are either women or gay men) that they should stop worrying about weight and change their perspective to ask if they feel healthy, I have internalized my own advice. On the other hand, part of my own concern with getting in better shape (hampered by grad school, daddying, and basketball injuries) and my feminist sensibilities has made me occassionally made body image statements to friends and lovers. Part of it was to guage if I was ok looking, and part of it was to test how a man who concerns himself in the same way as women is treated. I think it is a testament to my friends for them to say consistently that I am skinny and some have said things like “you’re a guy, so its not an issue with you”. Even when I was visibly large-gutted, I love baggy clothes, and so no one could really tell–they’d still act weird that I was even asking about my body given that I was “so skinny”. For some reason, that ability to “pass” helped me not be as concerned. On the other hand, I think that my self-esteem would not have been so good, even with these limited body image concerns, if people weren’t consistently attracted to me. Part of me thinks it has much more to do with my personality than my looks, but I’d like to believe I am hot as well as interesting–though I have no idea what is the truth of the matter.

So, today, I just exercise and really care little for my diet. I figure I can eat what I want as long as I exercise enough. Hopefully this remains true as I get older. My biggest concern is for my daughter, who is 9. Her mom had been very concious of her own weight and took it out on me alot when we were together. That was years ago and I am sure she is better by now. On the other hand, I am sure I am more cognizant of various issues regarding the experience of woman than her–I do a lot of feminism in my academic work. It scares me a little that my daughter was exposed frequently to Saquira, diets, and wants validation based on her looks. I try and counter-act this when I talk with her (they are in another country now), but who knows what will stick. I really hope I can have some good talks with her when she is older and when she can come live with me.

As for a bi feminist guy’s perspective on women’s bodies? I like all shapes and sizes and am attracted to women more based on their personality and attitude. I have all sorts of different preferences for physical attractiveness, but rarely do they coincide with the advertising and magazine industries perspective. I have been with all sorts of women of all shapes, sizes and colors, and I find part of the fun is exploring and enjoying what that person is.

Anyway, this wasn’t a heart-wrenching post like many of the above (seriously, I really feel for women about this–it makes me angry), but as we know, men are starting to get similar issues as women in this regard, especially the queer eye generation coming up. Ahh… capitalism: “making money through people’s insecurities” is SO awesome. I am sure we are going to see in 10 or 15 years a spike in men having very similar issues.

Anyway… time to post on the other thread about what I like about myself.

My parents enrolled me in ballet class when I was 5 or 6, and I was always aware that I had a potbelly that the other girls didn’t have. I remember going to an ice skating birthday party when I was around 8, and being shlepped around the rink by the birthday girl’s older sisters, who said things like “Maybe if you weren’t so fat you could skate on your own.”

With the exception of when I was on Cambridge Diet and lost 13 pounds in 16 weeks to get down to 105, I have felt like a fat person every day of my life, and I am 51 years old. I have cut out most sugars from my life, all refined carbohydrates, white potatoes, any breads containing white flour, semolina pasta (I only eat whole wheat or brown rice pastas), and I am still, according to the actuarial charts, which seem to think I should weigh between 89 and 102 pounds for my height — 90 pounds overweight. I decided one day to stop having a full-size mirror, and I don’t allow myself to be photographed. It’s the only way I can deal with it in a world in which my own doctor thinks I should try this starvation diet she went on.

bhtvplgnw dadvyfbhu dhocvjznxc wocmijzhtqs nougdlo ftibrzsea enfnqrq

I was never a sylph, but only started to feel bad about myself when my boobs grew at about 12-13. My mother called me fat a lot because my teenage rage amused her, and besides I was a nerdy kid and good at maths and therefore not allowed to be pretty anyway. So I hid behind long hair, big glasses and slouching, and thought of myself as fat and ungainly for the next ten years (I wasn’t; I was 140lbs at 5′5″).

I remember, absurdly enough, being extremely flattered when my first boyfriend (I was 15) encouraged me to diet. Like he saw me as potentially attractive rather than irredeemably yeti-ugly. Ugh.

I suppose it’s possible that changes in fashion exaggerate the difference.

I doubt it. I noticed a difference in the shape of their arms right away. If the female cast members of The O.C. have an exercise plan, it clearly doesn’t include any bicep, tricep or delt work.

They all make me think of Margaret Cho’s I’m the One That I Want, in which she describes the pressure to be thin enough for the cameras and how it affected her.