The Endpoint is Not Your Lipstick

My latest article, The Endpoint is Not Your Lipstick can be found on The Well Written Woman’s website. It can also be found right below this.

I have an ex-girlfriend who had body image issues. I remember one night on the couch, in the midst of severe depression, she was tugging on the “fat” in her arm. She was obsessed with it. She wouldn’t look away from it. She just lay there, staring and tugging, staring and tugging, ignoring my every attempt to remind her she was beautiful, even rejecting me when I tried to convince her of the truth.

There was nothing there. There was no fat. There was no real problem. The problem was in her head. We were both on the couch feeling helpless. She felt helpless because she could not get rid of the “fat” in her arm; I felt helpless because I could not convince and remind her that she really was beautiful and there was no fat to obsess over.

It’s common for women to feel this way. Unless you are a woman who has had body image issues, it is easy to forget how common it is. In reality, one in 200 women suffer from anorexia. Just as scary, 50% of girls between the ages of 11 and 13 see themselves as overweight. It is frightening and unnerving when you consider that these issues begin in girls so young and that their consequences are often so deadly. Twenty percent of people suffering anorexia prematurely die from complications related to their eating disorder, including suicide and heart problems.

The opposite side to the above story about my ex-girlfriend is this: she was incredibly narcissistic. I’ll sum it up by paraphrasing something she once said to me: “No matter where I go, I’m always the most beautiful girl in the room.”

A normal reaction to the above quote is an eye roll.

We recognize the sadness and fragility of a person who is suffering from such emotional damage that they feel valueless because they don’t believe their body image is up to society’s standards. We also recognize the absolute reprehensible nature in a person who no matter what, believes they are aesthetically superior to anyone, anywhere.

Either way, what both extremes suggest, is a strong fixation and obsession with self-image, with a self-imposed requirement to adhering to society’s standards of beauty and with being accepted because of physical appearance.

I’m not going to write that you should not care about being physically beautiful. You should. It seems to be an inevitable desire of humans, but we should also recognize mediocrity in it. We only screw up when we go to one extreme or the other. I would like to find something clever to say right now, but one of the most absolute annoying clichés I have ever heard is just so fitting: it’s what’s on the inside that counts, not what’s on the outside.

For anyone assuming that beauty is all that gets you there, remember: you can’t just be beautiful and end it there. You need to bring more to the table. Don’t show up and expect to be let in the door just because you are fortunate enough to have the right genetic code and store-bought makeup so that most guys will drool over you. And don’t think that because you are not as beautiful as the girl who spent five hours getting ready this morning that you are any less valuable.

What is most impressive is that you worked at something in life, that you have tried. Show people you have put in the work, that you have succeeded and that you have failed and gotten back on the horse. We want to see what you have learned, not that you managed to dress yourself in the morning.

I have met women who know of these problems, recognize the polarities involved, but instead of fixing the problem they aggravate them. Some of these women complain about the societal pressures imposed upon them by advertising, models, television, movies, etc., then continue to dress in the way they feel they are being pressured to, which not just perpetuates the problem, but makes it harder for women who do want to do something about the problem. Don’t wear a miniskirt and tube top and complain that you’re being objectified by men.

If you don’t like it, don’t be a part of it. I’m not going to change the world by being a vegetarian, but I’m also not partaking in a system I disagree with. Confidence is sexy, not half a pound of makeup on your face, or being so skinny your bones are visible through your shirt.

I know. It’s hard. It’s hard to abandon and throw free the shackles imposed upon you by our judgmental and narcissistic society, but you must. If you are content with being materialistic, then live that unfulfilled life, but if you know there is more to life and love than how much better your ass looks in that dress than the other girls in the room you’re jealous of, then liberate yourself. Never settle for just being hot.

Look beautiful, feel beautiful, be beautiful, but don’t stop there and don’t rely solely upon that external shell and makeup. I can’t tell you what is going to work, but I can tell you that if you rely solely upon your physical beauty you won’t find anything truly and intrinsically meaningful.

You can’t date someone unless you are physically attracted to them, but that foundation is not the end point. I don’t know what that end point is, but it’s not your fucking lipstick. The endpoint is not having the best abs; it’s not having hair with the most volume and bounce, and it is definitely not about being the thinnest woman in the room.

Have some substance, fearlessly and vehemently be yourself, then patiently wait for what will inevitably come. If you are only beautiful on the outside, you are a spy who will inevitably get caught. If you are genuine and respectful on the inside, you are a wonderful person who will inevitably get caught.

Liberate yourself by being yourself.

What It Means to Be a Man

It’s hard for me to befriend males. In simplest terms, most guys are douche bags. Women are constantly baffled by this. Let me reaffirm the fact: most guys are douche bags; probably somewhere around 85%. That means I cannot be friends with 85% of guys. Why? Their idea of what it means to be a man is completely wrong. They have no idea and they are out in public right now.

I remember one night working at the tattoo shop before I moved to St. Augustine. I was mopping the floor, our nightly routine before we closed the shop, while the shop owner was tattooing someone. A fat girl sat in one of the barber chairs used for tattooing. The conversation the five the room’s occupants were having led to the discussion of me being a vegetarian. The girl in the chair chimed in:

“I used to be a vegetarian, but I got really sick.”

“That’s funny. I’ve been a vegetarian for a few years and I’ve never felt healthier,” I told her.

The response from the girl who use to substitute her meat with Doritos and Bud Light was, “Why don’t you be a man and eat meat.”

I could have responded with, “Why don’t you be a woman, get on the treadmill, then put on a sexy dress and high heels, then cook that meat for me.”

I didn’t say that because I can handle those situations rationally and because, well, I don’t believe that is what makes a woman. Being a “man” or a “woman,” is not a matter of fulfilling the stereotypes our society provides us, it is a matter of disregarding them and doing your own thing.

I know women who wear a lot of makeup and just generally slutty clothes, but also complain about the draconian pressures imposed on them by our culture that they “have to dress like that.” It seems quite foolish to me that they will complain about those standards while simultaneously upholding, maintaining and reinforcing them, making it harder for the next generation of women to battle.

As a man, I face similar pressures, occasionally drink too much gin or whiskey and complain about them, but I never fall victim to them. Why? Because I’m secure and I don’t really give a shit about them.

That is why when the sick girl in the chair at the tattoo shop tried to lay waste to me in her bout of ignorance, it rolled off my shoulders and I kept on moving.

The point is simple: having a penis does not qualify you to be “a man.” Yes, biologically, someone with a penis is a male, but being a man takes much, much more.

Examine this: I am a man who practices yoga and doesn’t eat meat. I also lift weights and have enough tattoos to convince an old woman I sell drugs and have no moral fabric. Immediately, you probably see a contrast in those first two sentences. The first implying I have traits some self-proclaimed men would deem “gay” (not my words), and the second sentence, traits that make me manly.

While I acknowledge that any yoga class I have been to has primarily consisted of women and few men, and that women are 60% more likely to be vegetarian than men , I argue that calling an activity masculine or feminine is a social construct. Obviously, there is nothing inherent in those activities that make them fall on one side or the other. We assign these social values to them and the secure people, male or female, break them down.

Males will say, “Only women do yoga,” and I will retort, “I do yoga because I care about my body and mind and yoga has great beneficial effects for both.” Males will say, “Only women and/or faggots are vegetarian ,” and I say, “I have well thought-out reasons for not eating meat. You probably eat meat because you think you have to and just because you always have without having given the reasons why careful consideration. Also, you’re a moron.”

If we are going to make choices, we have to have reasons for making those choices, otherwise, we are foolish. Being rational and utilizing our intellect, instead of ignoring it so we can comfortably fit into our niche of what is manly, is what really makes someone a man.

Ask me why I do yoga, lift weights, have tattoos, am a vegetarian, am an atheist, and I’ll tell you why. The reasons I give you will be thought-out, point by point, rational reasons that are a result of using my intellect while you sit on your couch driving McDonald’s chicken nuggets and Mountain Dew down your throat yelling at a television. If that makes you a “man,” I’m sorry our culture has gone astray. I might even finish my argument with a solid “QED” and “Get fucked.”

The things men do because they think it helps to define them as men does not just make them less manly because it conveys a strong sense of insecurity, it also prevents them from getting laid because intelligent women recognize them as knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing troglodytes. Case in point, who is more manly? The guy in a pink polo shirt with tribal tattoos starting fights at bars, or the guy busting his ass all day long at work to support his family?
Of course marketers know how to take advantage of men’s insecurities and while the makers of Axe Body Spray and shirts with foil dragons profit, I lose because I have to deal with the people they profited from. Being around these self-proclaimed men, remind yourself: be aware of your surroundings, pay attention to what is happening, but beware what you will witness, the complete degradation of an entire gender.

It has been a long time since anyone said, or even implied, that I am less manly for doing yoga or am a vegetarian. I don’t think I present the image of someone you can say that to, but if they did, I wouldn’t care. I would say, “I don’t care,” and mean it literally, not like when some people say it and they’re red faced and angry (think commercial rap songs).

I have known males whose very vision of what it means to be a man has literally ruined their lives. If I go to a bar with a guy who points to a woman in the room and says, “Check out that bitch’s ass. It’s so thick and juicy,” you can guarantee I won’t be hanging out with that person again. I have very few male friends whose company I enjoy because of this and other reasons. I don’t want to hang out with guys who say, “Let’s go out tonight and find some chicks.” Unfortunately, these guys are screwing themselves over and they don’t know it. They are victims because they have failed to think.

I want to surround myself with people, male or female, who are intelligent, ambitious, inherently good people and have a sense of humor.

Being a man does not mean you can win a drinking contest, beat someone up, or be proud of the fact you don’t know what a troglodyte is. It does not mean you eat meat three times a day and have had a lot of sexual partners.

To be a man, you have to be yourself, make your own decisions with rational, thought-out reasons and have personal accountability. It means you are secure in who you are. It means you can make a decision, stick to it and deal with the consequences whether they are good or bad.

Until more guys understand this, my circle of friends is going to stay incredibly small.