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The Bear Movement
Feb. 10th, 2015 12:43 pmTaking a much-needed mental break from SCA thoughts, I am looking forward to a long weekend. Since I work for Gubment (which rarely makes any logical sense) I get a really nice treat by having Washington’s and Lincoln’s birthdays off. Combined with my flex Friday, I have a five day weekend coming up! While for much of that, I need need NEEEEED to work on projects, I do plan on heading off on Valentine’s Day with my honeybear to Palm Springs for the International Bear Convergence. WooHOO!
So… what is with this whole “Bear” thing, you may all be wondering? Well, there are all kinds of theories and explanations out there. To some people, it means hairy men (beards, chests, etc). To others, it means big guys. To others, it means down n’ out fat. And then we have all kinds of subcategories – panda bears, polar bears, black bears, gummy bears, grizzly bears, etc. Then we have the other animals…otters, wolves, pups, cubs, etc. It could make one’s head hurt! Despite the fact that I almost always overthink just about everything, this is one of the very few things that I just refuse to over analyze. Why? Here’s why.
To me, the Bear Movement means one thing and one thing only – people who are comfortable in their own skin.
I’m just gonna lay it out here and be totally open and honest. There are people who view me as a good-lookin’ guy. I’m not saying that to be arrogant. It is just something that I have heard said. But ya know what? My natural – NATURAL – kneejerk reaction when I hear a compliment about my appearance is not to believe it. Why is that? Because I am a fat-kid. I don’t say “was” because that implies it is something left in the past. The fact is, when I see myself in the mirror, I don’t see who I am now. I still see the fat-kid. Call me handsome, and I wait for the punchline. Call me fat, and I will totally believe you.
When I was a kid, I was a 120% introvert. I had no interest in interacting with other kids. Physical activity – hell no! I wanted to stay indoors, listen to music, talk to adults, read, play, imagine, and eat. Heck, I’m a Portuguee – we like to eat! With the exception of my annoyingly gorgeous and thin-her-whole-life-sister, Georgette, my whole family has always leaned towards the bigger side. Oh hell, I’ll just say it – we have fat genes. And ya know what they say about fat genes? You need to wear fat jeans! My Toughskins were always in the “Husky” size when I was a kid, and fat-shaming was something I lived with most days.
Living in a small town didn’t help. It was bad enough that I really didn’t like hanging out with kids my own age. But when you add on the fact that I was THE fat kid in the classroom, I naturally became the object of bullying. Nowadays, the spotlight has really been cast upon this horrific mentality. But not then. Then, I lived in constant fear of being picked on. The name calling stung, as I heard everything, believed everything, and took everything to heart. But sometimes it went further than that. It was nothing for other kids to make threats or act out on their threats to beat up the fat kid. I lived in not just constant fear – it was terror. My family did their best to help me out. But it was my battle to fight and not theirs. They tried to get me to toughen up, which I cannot say was a bad idea. But let’s face it – I’m not a tough guy. It just isn’t in my nature. The real key was to survive that phase of my life and to move on to a point where people just didn’t act out that way. Then, luckily for me, my body chemistry changed a bit and I went from being the fat kid to really thin and lanky by high school.
I have never really gotten used to my own body. In my adulthood, I have made it a point to go to the gym and work out – not because I am trying to measure up to anybody or anything, but because I want to be able to move around and be self-sufficient when I’m in my 70’s and beyond. Yet, I don’t know where I *should* be. According to the American weight charts (a complete FARCE if ever I have seen one!) I am currently obese – a label that I find absurd. A couple of years ago, when I was a size 33 waist, and I felt personally like I was at my ideal size, I recall an acquaintance of ours who was a nurse approaching my hubby and pulling him aside for a private conversation because she was very, very concerned that I looked sickly and needed to put ON some weight. (Oh, how ironic!) Yet, when my body chemistry changed again and I put on about 20 pounds, while I felt like a fatty the same nurse believed that I suddenly looked healthy and “recovered”. WTF?! I can’t win.
Believe it or not, all of this rambling really does have a point. In American culture, we are all conditioned to think that there is some perfect ideal, which we see in fashion and in magazines and on the big screen. And in the process of being taught that this ideal is a good thing, we are also taught to look at ourselves in the mirror and see some image of disgust. And ya know what? That is absolute and complete bullshit which I completely refuse to buy into any more. I just won’t! And I don’t think anyone else should, either.
While yes, there are things we all can and should do for our own health, such as taking a walk, getting some fresh air and sunshine; killing yourself for perfect washboard abs when your genetics just aren’t designed that way makes about as much sense as trying to make your eyes suddenly just change color. You shouldn’t fix something if it isn’t broken. At this point in my life, when it comes to my own lil pot belly, I embrace it. Why? Because that’s part of me, part of who I am, and the reality of what makes me Joe. I guess what I’m saying is that I am pushing myself to be comfortable in my own skin. And that is what makes me a Bear. Am I a swimsuit model? HELL NO! But I don’t care. I will still enjoy the heck out of a pool party (which I plan to do this weekend).
So to all my friends out there – young and old, thin and not-so-thin, men and women alike. Embrace your inner bear! Know that you are my friends because of the person that you are, not because of the absurd-ideal-washboard-abs-that-you-are-not. Know what I find attractive? Self-confidence. I’m working on mine day by day. Maybe I’ll get there fully someday. But until I do, I hope that you can all just “bear” with me.
So… what is with this whole “Bear” thing, you may all be wondering? Well, there are all kinds of theories and explanations out there. To some people, it means hairy men (beards, chests, etc). To others, it means big guys. To others, it means down n’ out fat. And then we have all kinds of subcategories – panda bears, polar bears, black bears, gummy bears, grizzly bears, etc. Then we have the other animals…otters, wolves, pups, cubs, etc. It could make one’s head hurt! Despite the fact that I almost always overthink just about everything, this is one of the very few things that I just refuse to over analyze. Why? Here’s why.
To me, the Bear Movement means one thing and one thing only – people who are comfortable in their own skin.
I’m just gonna lay it out here and be totally open and honest. There are people who view me as a good-lookin’ guy. I’m not saying that to be arrogant. It is just something that I have heard said. But ya know what? My natural – NATURAL – kneejerk reaction when I hear a compliment about my appearance is not to believe it. Why is that? Because I am a fat-kid. I don’t say “was” because that implies it is something left in the past. The fact is, when I see myself in the mirror, I don’t see who I am now. I still see the fat-kid. Call me handsome, and I wait for the punchline. Call me fat, and I will totally believe you.
When I was a kid, I was a 120% introvert. I had no interest in interacting with other kids. Physical activity – hell no! I wanted to stay indoors, listen to music, talk to adults, read, play, imagine, and eat. Heck, I’m a Portuguee – we like to eat! With the exception of my annoyingly gorgeous and thin-her-whole-life-sister, Georgette, my whole family has always leaned towards the bigger side. Oh hell, I’ll just say it – we have fat genes. And ya know what they say about fat genes? You need to wear fat jeans! My Toughskins were always in the “Husky” size when I was a kid, and fat-shaming was something I lived with most days.
Living in a small town didn’t help. It was bad enough that I really didn’t like hanging out with kids my own age. But when you add on the fact that I was THE fat kid in the classroom, I naturally became the object of bullying. Nowadays, the spotlight has really been cast upon this horrific mentality. But not then. Then, I lived in constant fear of being picked on. The name calling stung, as I heard everything, believed everything, and took everything to heart. But sometimes it went further than that. It was nothing for other kids to make threats or act out on their threats to beat up the fat kid. I lived in not just constant fear – it was terror. My family did their best to help me out. But it was my battle to fight and not theirs. They tried to get me to toughen up, which I cannot say was a bad idea. But let’s face it – I’m not a tough guy. It just isn’t in my nature. The real key was to survive that phase of my life and to move on to a point where people just didn’t act out that way. Then, luckily for me, my body chemistry changed a bit and I went from being the fat kid to really thin and lanky by high school.
I have never really gotten used to my own body. In my adulthood, I have made it a point to go to the gym and work out – not because I am trying to measure up to anybody or anything, but because I want to be able to move around and be self-sufficient when I’m in my 70’s and beyond. Yet, I don’t know where I *should* be. According to the American weight charts (a complete FARCE if ever I have seen one!) I am currently obese – a label that I find absurd. A couple of years ago, when I was a size 33 waist, and I felt personally like I was at my ideal size, I recall an acquaintance of ours who was a nurse approaching my hubby and pulling him aside for a private conversation because she was very, very concerned that I looked sickly and needed to put ON some weight. (Oh, how ironic!) Yet, when my body chemistry changed again and I put on about 20 pounds, while I felt like a fatty the same nurse believed that I suddenly looked healthy and “recovered”. WTF?! I can’t win.
Believe it or not, all of this rambling really does have a point. In American culture, we are all conditioned to think that there is some perfect ideal, which we see in fashion and in magazines and on the big screen. And in the process of being taught that this ideal is a good thing, we are also taught to look at ourselves in the mirror and see some image of disgust. And ya know what? That is absolute and complete bullshit which I completely refuse to buy into any more. I just won’t! And I don’t think anyone else should, either.
While yes, there are things we all can and should do for our own health, such as taking a walk, getting some fresh air and sunshine; killing yourself for perfect washboard abs when your genetics just aren’t designed that way makes about as much sense as trying to make your eyes suddenly just change color. You shouldn’t fix something if it isn’t broken. At this point in my life, when it comes to my own lil pot belly, I embrace it. Why? Because that’s part of me, part of who I am, and the reality of what makes me Joe. I guess what I’m saying is that I am pushing myself to be comfortable in my own skin. And that is what makes me a Bear. Am I a swimsuit model? HELL NO! But I don’t care. I will still enjoy the heck out of a pool party (which I plan to do this weekend).
So to all my friends out there – young and old, thin and not-so-thin, men and women alike. Embrace your inner bear! Know that you are my friends because of the person that you are, not because of the absurd-ideal-washboard-abs-that-you-are-not. Know what I find attractive? Self-confidence. I’m working on mine day by day. Maybe I’ll get there fully someday. But until I do, I hope that you can all just “bear” with me.
