I'm a male, I'm straight, and I don't mind admitting that Brad's body, especially in "Fight Club," is an impressive sight. The same goes for D'Angelo, in that powerful, sexual "Untitled" video; he's a put-together guy, and there's no reason to deny it. But while I'm cool with thinking those guys are fine, I'm bothered by my occasional inability to see them, Men's Health magazine, or any Soloflex commercial, without honestly believing that unless I have three percent body fat, a hairless chest and washboard abs, I'm a sorry human being. I spent the week after watching "Fight Club" doing push-ups; if I catch "Untitled" on MTV Jams before heading to school in the morning, I usually hit as many sit-ups as I can. After a long time of believing I run, lift, bike, hike and trying to "eat right" in the interest of being fit, I've realized my motivations are more superficial than healthy. Instead of seeking true mental and physical fitness, I worry about appearances-about what I'm convinced I should look like, based on magazines, movies and MTV. I go through streaks of avoiding certain foods not because they taste bad or otherwise disagree with me, but because I'll feel guilty after eating them.
The thing is, I'm actually in pretty decent shape-about 6' 1", 160 pounds, and relatively solid. I don't lift much, but I do a lot of pushups, pullups and crunches, and I run 20 miles a week. Most of the time, I usually eat whatever I want, and never gain a pound. I'm not ripped, but I'm not flabby, and I'm healthy enough to feel lucky. .
Nevertheless, since ninth grade, I haven't been content. On an intellectual level, I understand that every human body is different, and that there are no "right" and "wrong" ways to look, and that I don't have to live up to anyone's standards by my own. .
But what are my standards? A few years ago, I started to get the feeling that I needed to improve my body. I felt skinny and soft and sub-par.
