Sizing Up Remarks On Body Shape
Summer is almost over, and as always, I’m of two minds about it. I’ll miss the warmth and sun, but I’ll welcome autumn for this reason: In the coming months, I won’t have to contend with people making comments about my body.
I know I’m not the only one who faces this. But we mostly think of weight as a woman’s problem. And we mostly think the problem is too much fat.
On the contrary, I’m thin. Very thin. At 39 years of age, I’m over six feet tall and under 150 pounds. Thus, during the summer months, when I wear cut-offs and T-shirts, or go to the beach, people stare. And all too often, they say the dumbest things.
Imagine this: About five years ago, I’m at a pool party with some work colleagues. Several men go to a room in the house to change into our swimming suits. As I finish hanging up my clothes, a colleague walks over to me and says: “When I looked across the room a few minutes ago, I saw someone who looked like he was from a concentration camp. Then I realized it was you!”
What’s most astonishing about this incident was that the man didn’t seem to be trying to insult me. Nor have others who’ve commented about my “long legs,” “prominent ribs” or other body parts. These people simply think that my weight is their business.
Our culture supports this attitude, even among the very young. By second grade, I had the nickname Bones, and classmates regularly made jokes about my weight: how, for example, if I turned sideways and stuck out my tongue, I’d look like a zipper.
In adolescence, I wanted to date, but I held back. I had a low opinion of my sexual appeal, certain that girls would prefer my bulkier classmates. I worked to cover myself up; I was one of those guys in high school who spent his life in baggy pants and sweaters.
By early adulthood, although I was physically healthy and a good athlete, I had acquired a genuine dislike for my body. And like so many overweight men and women, I tried to change it. For a year, I drank protein shakes, ate a high-calorie diet and pumped iron.
These activities actually added 15 pounds to my frame. But in the end, my metabolism won out. As soon as I went back to a normal life, the extra pounds melted away.
It was not until my mid-20s that my self-image began to improve. My girlfriend at the time helped me see beyond the physical details of my body to the whole of it; she used words like “lean” and “graceful” to describe me. At first, I thought she was being euphemistic to make me feel better, but she eventually proved her sincerity by accepting an invitation to become my wife.
In recent years, I’ve finally begun to appreciate what I have. While so many of my contemporaries are battling paunches and bulges, I’m still shaped the way I was when Gerald Ford was in the White House.
Still, I’m frequently reminded - and amazed - at what both men and women will say. I realize these comments mostly reflect insecurities about the speaker’s own weight. But if I could suggest one thing to those who feel an urge to comment on other people’s bodies - whether those bodies be big, small, tall, short, male or female - it would be this: Don’t do it.
Mention: The average 6-foot-tall American man, aged 39 years, weighs 184 pounds.
Source: Society of Actuaries
Male call: How do you respond to people who make comments about your body? Send responses to VoiceMale, P.O. Box 8071, Lexington, Ky. 40533-8071, or to e-mail address nchetaol.com.
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The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = Neil Chethik Universal Press Syndicate