Thursday 16 April 2015

I'm a weight Nazi!


Courtesy of Raktim Chatterjee at
FreeDigitalPhotos.net
    'Wow, he's a big lad,' I said to Mrs Jones as we sat together on the settee watching our twice-weekly dollop of Judge Judy. 'Look at that gut; when was the last time he saw his knees, not to mention his bits and pieces!'

The victim of my verbal assault was a young man in his early 20s, standing before the solemn queen of arbitration in an attempt to sue his ex-girlfriend for the cost of an engagement ring. Clad in a grey suit and black tie, he clearly had made an effort to dress appropriately for Court. Articulate and respectful, he outlined the rationale for his claim. Thinking back, his demeanour suggested a pleasant, intelligent human being. But at the time I ignored those qualities, my attention focused only on the straining lower buttons of his white cotton shirt as they struggled to contain a wodge of overhanging flab demanding its freedom.      

I used to be a nice man. Size didn’t matter – except, of course, when creasing the sheets in the midst of lust – it was only behaviour and personality that counted when evaluating another human being. But that all changed in 2013 when a self-imposed exercise programme resulted in me shedding my beer-belly and 30 pounds.

Since my conversion from a chubby slob to thoroughbred athlete (don’t puncture my delusional bubble – it’s hard enough to maintain a positive self-image at 56), I’ve developed an obsession with people’s shapes and, like reformed smokers, I am now the harshest critic of those who are yet to change their ways. When meeting males for the first time, I zoom in on their contours and mass. Does he carry more than one chin? Are there any man-boobs lurking under his outer garments? Is that a poorly inflated rubber ring clinging to his waste or a swathe of whale blubber?

I know my reactions are distasteful, ignorant and sometimes repulsive. My rational self often immediately challenges my prejudicial thoughts:

‘Don’t be a fatist; you’re no better than a racist, sexist or any other “ist”’

‘If you must form opinions of others, look further than their physical appearance’

‘Never judge a book by its cover’

‘Some people are born to be bigger than others; it’s in their genes’

‘There are unfortunate folk with medical conditions that render weight loss difficult, even impossible’.

 
I’m familiar with all these retorts and believe them to be morally and factually sound. But there is an emotional, almost instinctive part of me that is impossible to restrain. Feel free to unfriend me now; I’ll understand.

Nor is my discriminatory gaze exclusive to males. When I’m introduced to a woman one of my first thoughts is, ‘How firm is her butt?’ A close second is, ‘What proportion of her breasts are pure mammary rather than excess poundage?’ And so my internal conflict is triggered again, my emotive prejudice challenged by my rational and moral values.

I often feel compelled to explain my turmoil to Mrs Jones. When she catches me staring at women’s arses and boobs I’m at pains to point out that I’m not yearning for soft, silky, tender, warm, succulent female flesh … …[* breath quickens*] … … but struggling to resolve my internal conflict. She is not yet convinced!

 

 

         

 

     

 

 

 

18 comments:

  1. What was that? I was trying to determine if I still could see my bits and pieces.
    Whew. I can.
    Think I'll make a sandwich.

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    1. It's always reassuring to find that they are still there!

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  2. I could sum up this post with the catchphrase "Boobs, not moobs". Try it out on your wife and let me know what she says. We could engage in repartee with you as the go-between.

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  3. I'm not going to unfriend you, but this post does put me in a dicey situation since I've been overweight most of my life. I reached the goal weight for an average fully grown male when I was twelve. People tell you to loose weight, and I have, over three hundred pounds in my lifetime so far. If I focus on my weight and do nothing else, I can make myself stocky, but I'll never be thin. It doesn't help that I eat half the food I consumed in my youth; I'm still man-boob chubby.

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    1. It's the demon within the reformed slob that's to blame!.
      But seriously, I do understand how difficult it can be to lose weight, and I've worked with many people over the years suffering eating disorders. This article was written in an intentionally exaggerated form to try to capture another aspect of the mind of a menopausal male. No offence intended. Like most of my ramblings on here, it should not be taken too seriously.

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  4. I think you are a very naughty boy. I shall tell Mrs. Jones on you!!! x

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  5. Mrs. Jones is a very wise woman! Lol.

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  6. Thankfully I can still see my lady bits but I do have a sympathetic heart for those who struggle with weight issues. I've had to watch my weight all my life and blogged once about the obese sister I lost in 2009. Losing her gave me a new perspective on the issue. Weight terrifies me, but I also have an eating disorder, so it's a mixed bag of problems for me. I can only take it one day at a time. No worries though---I still adore you!

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    1. Thank you, Marcia. As I explain to Stephen (above) I do recognise the struggles people endure around their weight. The post was not meant to be taken too literally but rather to illustrate the addled idiosyncrasies of the menopausal-male mind. I wish you well with your challenges around your weight and shape.

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  7. You're far from the only person that judges people based on looks, unfortunately. I've learned that men especially, are pigs in this way. I'm not going to unfollow or unfriend you, everyone has flaws. I find this a lot less annoying than people who feel the need to constantly correct people's grammar. I'm sure if you saw the extra weight in the wagon I'm draggin' you would unfriend/unfollow me. I am currently uninterested in the amount of exercise required to keep everything firm.

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    1. I do actually prefer bigger women - stick insects do nothing for me. As explained above, my ramblings are meant to ridicule me, no one else. Take care.

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  8. I just hope that if I ever develop man-boobs, they'll be nice and round and pretty to look at. I will maintain my man-boobs daily and wear them with pride!

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    1. I've got this (rather disturbing) image of you naked in front of a mirror, with legs crossed to hide your man-bits, while admiring your boobs. Or is it only me that does that .. ..?

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  9. The hot trend here in the States is called "dad bod" now. Seems woman like a gut on a guy and just a little toned muscle. I don't get it but whatever turns people on works for them.

    My gal struggles with her weight because of major surgery and steroids she is on for recovery, but I love and support her and still think she's hot.

    Heck, everyone judges others to some degree. We all do.

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    1. I prefer a bigger woman myself, rather than a stick insect.

      A 'dad-bod' is what women now find attractive? Cream dough-nuts it is for tea, then!

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