My Covenant Eyes Ally had me laughing a few weeks back. He's an attorney with a sharp wit. Around that time, I had found myself being rebellious, therefore throwing caution to the wind, I'd been delving into smut (mostly via my pocket computer) in spite of CE's consistent monitoring (thankfully, this was not typical behavior for me).
As such, on a few subsequent Mondays, a text message would appear subtlety / respectfully asking about my recent poor choices. Not long after that, my Ally made a follow up that even today puts a smile on my face.
He said, "You and I like the same thing except for the muscles and body hair."
Lol.
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When I was in upper elementary school, I went to an all-boys' summer camp (sponsored by FBC Jackson), and it was there (rural south AL venue) that I was shockingly exposed to my inevitable & archetypical (physical / emotional) future. What I mean therein is I experienced a distinct encounter pertaining to what my future was pointing me (maturation) towards as a grown ass man. At the same time, there was young me dealing with an ongoing subconscious disconnect / emotional chasm. A chasm rooted primarily in shame / uncertainty. For I understood clinically (in my head) what I was destined to grow into, but I absolutely, positively could not relate / understand / comprehend on any level what that meant for me specifically. For I simply could not see myself as anything other than an unprepared, uninitiated boy. It was as if I was stuck or frozen when it came to all things related to Rob's potential, celebrated journey into manhood. Therefore, when the time came for me to face the truth of what was on the horizon for me as a male, it understandably threw me for a loop / short-circuited my thinking. As such, I quickly began idolizing therein that which I could not fathom albeit was desperate to fully understand / respect.
I'm now ready to admit that there was sexual abuse involved in my lower elementary days. It went on throughout one summer (Saturdays specifically), and though it didn't involve physical touch nor any malicious coercive intent (that I sensed at the time nor recall), its situational age inappropriateness (between me and the adult male party involved) was subtlety apparent to me even then. I recall feeling powerless to speak up for myself during these instances of abuse disguised as "male peer bonding". As a result, I began to equate MAN with a future I couldn't / refused to relate to.
To circle back to my summer camp story, the exposure occurred whilst brushing my teeth before bed on the first night we were there. Our bunkhouse chaperone (young adult male college student) nonchalantly stepped out of the shower naked and wet right in front of me. His muscled (very adult-like), hairy, tanned body was in its athletically built prime. And his junk looked absolutely enormous despite the mass of damp pubic hair crowning / partially obscuring it.
Whilst looking back, I'm absolutely sure it was his junk that was the most shocking. For it truly looked like a horse / donkey dick and balls (to my 5th grade eyeballs).
I spent most of that week privately fixated on this reveal as we went about doing your expected Christian summer camp travails (such as singing "Kumbuya, My Lord" around the evening campfires). But what truly kicked this fixation into high gear was when our Chippendales-like chaperone ushered a select few of my 5th grade colleagues to bunk with him within his adjacent private room (throughout the remainder of the week).
Oh, how I secretly longed for him to have chosen me. As you can imagine, my imagination went into overdrive as a result.
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Yesterday, whilst at the Y, there was a high school newbie strength training alongside. He was not properly dressed for the gym, and that may have conveniently been due to his lean build (he was wearing slacks). I silently admired his chutzpah for braving the space (at his age / with his build) for I knew exactly why he was there. To actively work towards becoming more muscular / strong / "man-looking". And like so many newbies, it was obvious that he'd no clue as to what he was doing.
Full disclosure: My time at that stage of my life was spent lusting after muscled and hairy men. And even moreso if they were golden tan whilst sporting a handsome mug. I did this with so little thought that it was almost as if I spent sizable portions of my adolescence within a sort of homoeroticized lust trance.
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When the Internet came on the scene (within the first few years of my marriage), I'd found my private, digital honey-hole. The salacious imagery, particularly the stunningly executed images of beautifully tan, hairy, muscle men only served to suffocate me with lust fodder.
Eventually, considering the I.T. inevitable, the maturation of the Internet (dial-up to DSL to T1, etc.) ushered in a much broader spectrum of captivating smut. I watched as photos became videos became HD videos.
But eventually (in large part due to my decade-long participation within Samson Society), the intense salaciousness wore off and this type of imagery simply became a repository for cheap thrills (it all began to look the same).
In line with that, my libido dramatically diminished simply due to my middle-aging.
Internet porn blandness + middle-age reduction in sex drive = Reason to celebrate!
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Today, I'm really pleased with my physical self. For I'm muscled and hairy in my own right as a 52-year-old man. I especially like how I feel whilst casually dressed. Specifically, I don't feel as if I'm hiding my body via my wardrobe.
Consistent strength training / running combined with healthy eating habits, over the past +/-18 years, has paid off in droves. And, of course, genetics have benefited me too. I'm very thankful to God for these developments.
When you loathe yourself, whether it's rooted in some form of childhood abuse or not, you know that such a negative outlook makes you decidedly vulnerable. Vulnerable to rejection, criticism, failure. Things that are inevitable life experiences.
In order to survive, I had to commit. Both to Samson Society (once I stumbled into it in 2014) as well as a healthy, very active lifestyle that was the antithesis of normal for a Mississippi man. It's been a long-term commit. In order to protect / honor myself. For I remember the hurt and the abuse like it was yesterday. Those scars will never be erased.
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