In eighth grade I was a chubby little dude. I rocked my Ecko Unlmtd t-shirts, high top sneakers, a silver chain and spiked up hair like it was nobody’s business. I strutted the halls of Coral Springs Middle like I was hot shit because, well, I thought I was.
I was confident in my “more to love” body type, going as far as selecting it on MySpace profile. I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I weighed 200 pounds, wore a XXL t-shirt and rocked a portly 36 waist. Man boobs and all, I loved my body.
I thought everyone else did too.
As summer passed and ninth grade began, I traded in my Ecko for more normal clothes. I found myself becoming a little less secure. Soon, I was wearing two t-shirts at once to hide the fat. I felt gross drinking the sodas I once relished, and in HOPE (a lil’ #tbt for you Broward County readers) I ran one of the slowest miles in the class, clocking in at almost 15 minutes. Looking back, I don’t think I actually finished.
Via: Bazzle Babble
At the end of freshman year, I realized that this was the body I had made for myself. I never played sports and spent too much time playing Xbox. I ate three square meals of junk food a day. I thought that I’d eventually grow into my body, but that was not gonna happen at the rate I was going. I realized I had to actually do something to change something.
And that summer, I did just that.
Regular exercise and a whole new diet made me lose weight fast. Like, real fast. People thought I had an eating disorder. I went from a blimp to a stick. Once I got to college, I discovered weight lifting. Today, I’m at a healthy 185 pounds, but I’ve weighed as much as 200 and as little as 140.
Suffice it to say, my body’s been through a lot.
The American diet has, too. What’s “trendy” has anyway. People would give me eyes for ordering whole wheat pasta at a restaurant back in 2009, but now, in the age of Gwyneth Paltrow and gluten-free fatwas, that’s mild. Everyone is suddenly on an organic, vegan, locally sourced diet. And it’s a great change from our infatuation with McDonald’s. It promotes health, which is suddenly a cool thing.
Via: Business Insider
So, when I read about the “trend” of the “Dad Bod,” I’m infuriated.
A lot has been written about the Dad Bod in the past few weeks. It originated from a post on the Odyssey (because this kind of Web cesspool is setting our country’s media agenda these days, apparently). Most of the commentary calls the trend sexist, saying that women are still expected to look like models while men can walk around like schlubs.
But critics have yet to address the two issues with this movement that get my man bun all twisted up in my Apple Watch.
Firstly (still my favorite FCAT transition word), we, as men, should hold ourselves to the same standards as the women we desire.
I can’t expect Bae to always look her best and keep healthy if I don’t hold myself to the same standards. Like my fellow Southwest regulars, I’m in the weight room six days a week because I’m trying to stay healthy and continue to improve my body. Call it vain or shallow, but it’s in our biology to view women partly as sex objects for mating reasons. If I’m going to objectify women at all, they’re welcome to objectify me right back.
The idea that women want a “cuddly” guy seems contradictory to everything any girl has ever told me. My doubts are also consistent with the amount of sex I had with my own Dad Bod in high school, which as it turns out was none.
If we want to attract the woman of our dreams, shouldn’t we look like the man of her dreams? Yes, as we age our bodies will change anyway. But in our sexually charged late teens and early- to mid-20s, we want to take home the hottest girl at the bar, and she wants to take home the hottest guy.
Second, it’s simply not healthy to choose to live with the Dad Bod standard. This trend encourages behaviors like binge eating and binge drinking. While I’m not here to tell you to stop eating your favorite foods or to swear off BOMOs at Rowdy’s, you need to compensate with proper exercise and diet when you’re not losing yourself in overindulgence.
The Dad Bod is particularly defined by the presence of belly fat, which has proven links to developing cardiovascular disease, Type 2 diabetes, colorectal cancer and sleep apnea, none of which sound like they’re worth that bag of Cheetos after finishing off a six-pack of Rolling Rock.
Via: Time
The Dad Bod is dangerous for men and women alike. It encourages men continue their unhealthy habits knowing their average bodies are celebrated, ignoring the increased risks of health problems later in life. The “dad bod” shows women that they work so hard to maintain their perfect thigh gap to attract men who did one set of crunches, at most, to look good for them.
Men, reject this bullshit.
If you have a Dad Bod, great, celebrate your body and live in it confidently, but do not fool yourself into believing you’re part of a new craze that everyone should get onboard with.
And women, don’t settle for this.
Though there are countless great men with “dad bods” who are great people, don’t settle for one if you’re not truly attracted to him.
We could all use a little more self-love when it comes to body image, but we shouldn’t confuse self-love with complacency.
Feature photo courtesy of: NYU Local
