[Name withheld] good to be alive and good to feel like I'm walking to a bee gee vibe... I'm staying alive..
Then a few seconds later it was followed up by:
[Name withheld]... that doesn't give me the right to wear spandex and strut however..actually..hmmm..
I don't get this as a joke. I understand that it's supposed to be funny but for some reason it bugs the ever living crap out of me. Who the fuck says people have to obtain the right to wear spandex?
I understand that this is underlying a joke about our poor self-esteem issues regarding our own bodies. I can understand that, I had just completed posting pictures of me and my fat ass, trotting around on a horse minutes before. And yes, I even made a comment about how that skinny-ass horse made my fat-ass look fat. They were both self deprecating jokes, so, to be fair, since I was bothered by someone's joke, I can understand if my joke might bother someone else. (Other than my use of the words "fat" & "ass") I seriously don't intend to offend. I think.
However, I believe my joke is less likely to offend. I'm not trying to say anything about what someone chooses to wear whereas my friend is. I'm directly mocking my body despite the clothing, whereas he is directing people away from his unshapely body type by mocking spandex. Granted, I did make a comment about my riding breeches making my ass look fat. But I was actually wearing them! My friend, on the other hand, has probably never worn spandex in his life.
Spandex, made from a supper stretchy material called Lycra! A type of clothing that accentuates the human (especially male) form in lovely ways, feels great, and it's fun and practical to wear. I wear it. Granted, with my current fat ass, I don't wear in public. Or if I do, it's not visible.
Ok, I think I'm rambling now and I might be starting to talk in circles here. I just wish we weren't so judgmental to others and ourselves about our fat asses in spandex.
Now, that fat ass thing, isn't really the core issue for me though, because what's hitting me in the back of my head about all of this judgmental spandex wearing is the truth of the matter, that even if I had a skinny, sexy ass, the judgmental spandex wearing would continue and it would even be worse. Why? Because I'm a man. Simple as that! And only the "faggoty" men wear spandex. That's what I grew up hearing in my neck of the Utah Mormon cultural landscape. God I hate that word "faggoty"! OK, to be honest, I only remember hearing it once, but goddamn, it rang in my head for years!
Now, I'm not talking about the spandex common to biking; I'm talking about the spandex made famous by those big hair metal bands from the 80's. That spandex caused me to stare uncontrollably at all of the male crotches who wore it. I would secretly watch Friday Night Videos in hopes to catch a glimpse of a spandex clad, skinny ass, with a big bulge in front. I didn't care who they were or what the music was. I was just interested in the spandex and how that spandex was filled. Bonus points if the spandex had a bright colored print.
Basically, spandex was all about sex. There I've said it. Sex! Fetish! And since I was just entering into the pubescent stage at the height of the 80's hair bands, my hormones raged. The more my hormones raged, the more I wanted to see, have, feel spandex, the guiltier I felt, the more distance I would publicly put between me and my fetishes, the less likely I would ever have of wearing it. Sad, isn't it? It wasn't until well into my late 20's early 30's did I finally buy some spandex. And even then, I did it as anonymously as possible over the Internet. Talk about living in complete and utter shame!
OK, now, I didn't suddenly develop a spandex fetish during that time, I already knew I had one as young as 5 when I wore some tights for a little school play. Yes, at age 5, I had experienced an indescribable emotional thrill from wearing them. Emotional! Not sexual! So, those so-called experts who like to say we develop fetishes for things because of our misdirected sexual outlet are all idiots. There may be some truth to that, but in my experience, I haven't been successful at developing fetishes, I can only discover them!
Ok, if I go on much more with this I won't be able to post it to this blog. This was supposed to be about how someone's joke triggered a mild frustration in me that is masking a deeper seething rage. Yes, it's true, as much as I would like to think I've put my past behind me, I still have some baggage. And I've been discovering over the past few years that my baggage is mostly about sex. This has caused me some real and embarrassing problems in the physical intimacy department.
Actually, I still have symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This may seem like a joke at this point but it's not. It has really been frustrating getting past a lot of the emotional and spiritual abuse I went through. I'm doing really well considering, but something this seemingly innocuous will pop up on occasion and really send me into a dive. I just want to fucking scream! I believe my cultish upbringing has robbed me of being able to experience fully one of the joys of being human. Why? Because somewhere along the way, a few people had some serious hang-ups about sex and wanted to make sure everyone else in the Mormon hive-mind had them as well, so they institutionalized them into church doctrine.
Erm, I wonder who they were? Anyone?
Fuck them!
