“You are fat!”
Those are about the most horrible words you can use on a gay guy. It doesn’t matter how thick your skin is, those words cut through your skin like hot knife through butter. In today’s world, being called fat simply means you are undesirable, not good enough or simply Urgh! I should know. I have been called fat several times. And each time doesn’t hurt less than the last.
If you think that in a world where we are all fighting for acceptance and tolerance, that our species will be a little kinder with one another, you would be wrong. The gay standards for desirability are set at far ridiculous levels. Little wonder most gays keep claiming loneliness and are perpetually in the market for the next hottest thing. To be more candid, it’s almost like we are in love with body parts not people.
Anyway, back to me and my story over weight issues. In my teenage years, I was quite skinny. But of course, those were my innocent years. Sex appeal had little or no relevance to me. It’s not that I wasn’t attracted to guys. It’s just that I couldn’t place any reason for the attraction. It wasn’t because they were tall or short or fat or thin. I liked the guys I liked because I felt some form of connection with them. Now, liking guys and having sex are two different things.
As I got into my twenties though, I began to put on weight. When I say ‘put on weight,’ it’s not like I was obese. I just didn’t have packs or abs, and my rib cage was well coated with flesh. To the rest of the world I was a hottie. Half the girls in my class wanted to sleep with me. I swear, if I was straight, a few would have had my kids by now.
Unfortunately, the class of people I fancied – the males – simply seemed not that into me. It was the age of skinny and frail, and I was fat. It’s not like these guys weren’t attracted to me, it’s just that most thought I would be better off stick-skinny like everyone else.
But if you know me, you know I resist any form of bullying or name-calling. So to cope, I sealed myself in my cocoon, vowing never to let myself fall for, or be manipulated by anyone. I still have my private battle with weight. I have told myself that I would never change for anyone. I will not starve. I will eat when I am hungry. I will do exercise to stay healthy, but never succumb to fulfilling anyone’s sexual fantasy. It’s not easy staying on this part. I keep away from people who like me for how I look instead of who I am. Some days I feel sexy and hot, and some days I feel unattractive.
I guess it’s all part of life. Maybe I would be convinced otherwise if I saw that skinny and frail is a prerequisite for a happy relationship. I am still very much desired by many. Actually to be honest, most of my so-called friends just want to sleep with me. I still ask myself why? When five minutes ago you called me fat. I am gradually learning to deal with the name-calling. Putting on weight in gay world is almost like catching a disease, or perhaps maybe it’s just my inner insecurities. But often, everyone just feels sorry for you, so 90% of gay guys starve themselves to look attractive. While I am glad I am not one of them, I think it’s important to note that true beauty comes from within.
Written by Ken George