Oh, the irony!

The letter from the editor in this month's issue of Out is quite interesting, given the source:

"When you look at yourself naked in the mirror, are you turned on by what you see? I ask the question not to invite narcissm but to raise a subject that we all, openly or not, obsess about: body image."

In the column, Brendan Lemon goes on to point out (tepidly) the role that Out has played in this, with their infamous selection of half-naked buff (mostly straight) cover men:

"Like many people, I view cover guys with conflicted emotions (even as I obviously understand, and promote, their appeal). I feel drawn to these guys' beauty. I also experience a sinking inability to match it, not to mention a secret resentment of them, the kind expressed by a character in the 11th century Japanese prose masterpiece The Tale of Genji: 'The way good looks have of blotting out everyone else can be rather annoying.'"

Hmm. Well, this is quite the shocker. I find the section about him promoting the appeal of the cover guys very interesting. Personally, I've always felt that Lemon talks out of his ass ever since that whole "I'm-dating-a-closeted-baseball-player" debacle, which really had nothing to do with anything.

On this point, however; he's onto something. I mention this, partly because I've been described as a self-loathing black man (which seems to me more like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole--it just doesn't describe my insecurities (especially anorexia) in total) and partly because I've been going through this post-surgery period extremely paranoid about my body. I am frankly, a neurotic mess. I make no bones about it, I just am.

This is the quagmire that I think a lot of gay men fall into. We both want to be and be with Adonises, and no one would ever admit to being one, because arrogance is unseemly. Yet, many of us exercise ourselves to the point of no return hoping against hope that we can get just a taste of the magic that the aesthetically pleasing elite possesses. I know that's part of the reason I go psycho in the gym. (The other reason being to run further away from the chubby, awkward, outscast that I was 7 years ago.)

Lemon touches on this:

"Remember that you take care of your physical self not primarily to attract others but to please yourself. This reminder is perhaps more difficult for gay men than for straight: 'Settling down' seems harder to acheive for us than for the straight guys, and so the search to stay eternally attractive feels more pressing...Perhaps the worst aspect of bodily perfectionism is the way it diminshes our sensual selves. If you don't believe me, ask yourself: Would you rather have dinner with someone who likes an occasional bit of dessert, or someone who can't stop talking about his no-trans-fat diet?"

Amen.

But I wonder how long this lesson will last?