I remember when I was a sophomore in high school, I went to Los Angeles with my dad for the state Academic Decathlon competition (I know, dorky, but it helped get me into college!) We stopped by the LA County Museum of Art and explored some of the modern art collection. Modern art always annoyed me to some degree (how a painted white canvas can be worth a million bucks, I'll never know), and I remember coming across one particularly frustrating painting.
It was a famous work by René Magritte. It was simple. Just a beige canvas, a perfectly styled pipe in the center. And below that, the words "Ceci n'est pas un pipe." ("This is not a pipe.") I can still remember my incredulity at seeing the painting:
Me: This is ridiculous! What does he mean? Of course it's a pipe!
Dad: OK, OK, but is it really a pipe? Can you smoke it?
Me: No...
Dad: Can you touch it?
Me: No...
Dad: So it isn't really a pipe. It's a picture of a pipe. It isn't reality, it's an imitation of reality.
I don't know if I fully appreciated that message at the time. But it's one I’ve come to understand today. There is a difference between a man and a picture of a man. The picture is an illusion, a fantasy. It’s an expression of what that man wishes himself to be perceived as; and an impression of what the viewer wishes to perceive. The man is the man.
I realize that posting pictures of ourselves online is a double-edged sword: On the one hand, you put your image out there and hopefully find support and meet people who like what they see; on the other, your image can become the object of interest, not you.
And there's a fundamentally important question that we need to be honest about: Does posting images online help us find meaningful relationships/encounters/friendships? Or does it enable objectification that expressly impedes anything meaningful? My personal answer is in the gray area somewhere between the two.
To find that answer, we must first look at the causes. Ultimately, I think objectification in our community sprouts from two sources: our obsession with a single body part and—to a much larger degree—the slow process by which we gradually learn to live with (and eventually love) this kink.
Q: WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT FLESHY THING AROUND A BELLY?
A: A PERSON
I joked about it in my last post, but easily the single most common greeting I get online is “How’s the belly?” Most guys don’t want to know how I’m doing, they want to see what’s shakin with my food processor (and I don’t mean my Cuisinart). Our kink is focused heavily on a single body part—the belly—and that simple fact makes it all too easy to de-humanize the guys we see online.
I’d try to act incredulous, but I’d be a hypocrite for doing so. Because I too am guilty of objectification of my brethren from time to time. I’ve spent many a subway ride ogling the belly stuffed into a too-small shirt. And I sometimes let my fantasies run wild looking at pictures of icons like sfgutmuscle and hogbelly, ignoring the fact that I know them personally.
And I too am guilty of manipulating the “reality” of my own pictures. I’ve taken photos to accentuate my finer features and at times pushed my belly out more to create a larger silhouette. I’ve posed in ways to project a more masculine image, to project a certain fantasy. And I certainly have enjoyed the attention paid to my body, my belly, my accomplishments.
We love bellies. There’s not much we can do about it. We like what we like. And sometimes that love can lead to objectification. But I think we can love a single body part without always objectifying the man who possesses it. Most of the time, objectification is more the product of our state-of-mind, than our simple love of bellies. It’s less about the photos we take or the image we project and more about the mentality of the viewer.
In the end, it’s mostly about the walls the viewer had built in his own head.
MR. GORBACHEV, TEAR DOWN THIS WALL
Walls are useful. They help keep things out that we don’t want in, and they protect us from possible threats. But they can also be harmful.
When coming to terms with our kink, we go through certain phases. First is denial—we’ve all been there. Then when we get over that, there’s a cautious acceptance: “Yes, I have this kink, but it’s not really a part of me. It’s just some weird quirk that I dabble in.” It’s at this moment in our development that we begin building a wall in our brain. On one side of the wall are all our gainer kinks, fantasies and desires. On the other side, is everything else.
I’ll be the first to admit that when I started to meet men online, I objectified and de-humanized them. I made sure I kept my encounters with anyone from the gainer community separate from my “normal” life. To me, it was safer to keep them on one side of the wall I’d built. It had nothing to do with whether or not they had photos or videos (many just didn’t back then, it was the dark ages of 2002, after all).
As any of you who’ve tried the same know, that’s not a charade you can keep up for long. Sooner or later, you have to start melding the two worlds. And as soon as I started tearing down that wall, the objectification of other guys with this kink began to fade.
De-humanizing someone who is perceived as a threat is a perfectly natural human response—it's what enables soldiers to kill their enemies with little hesitation or allows you to turn your nose at homeless panhandlers without feeling like a total dick. Though this reaction is natural, it's far from ideal. De-humanizing others allows us to be OK with the shitty things we do to them. It’s why some guys can stand you up in the rain and not think twice.
For those who still have some or all of that barrier up—and let’s be honest, that’s probably a majority of guys who have this kink—the walled world is all they know. It’s just easier to think of a man as an object, the sum of his parts (his pictures, videos and web chat) than to see him as simply a person.
CECI EST UN HOMME
So what does all this mean for that nagging question: Should we or shouldn’t we post photos of our ourselves online? Well, regardless of whether or not we post photos or videos of ourselves, some will objectify us and some will not. Those who are more at ease with their kink will see us as equals—as real human beings—no matter what and those with heavy gainer baggage will continue to see us as objects of lust.
The good news is that the more guys who are confident and honest about themselves online, who stand for something positive and empowering, the more our community’s collective confidence seems to come out. And as that happens to a greater degree, we’ll see more of those walls come tumbling down.
While I’ve felt objectified more than a few times since first posting pictures of myself online, I can safely say that the reward—the truly amazing mix of guys I’ve met and friendships I’ve forged over the years—has been well worth the trouble.
The ones who matter know that “This is a man.”
It was a famous work by René Magritte. It was simple. Just a beige canvas, a perfectly styled pipe in the center. And below that, the words "Ceci n'est pas un pipe." ("This is not a pipe.") I can still remember my incredulity at seeing the painting:
Me: This is ridiculous! What does he mean? Of course it's a pipe!
Dad: OK, OK, but is it really a pipe? Can you smoke it?
Me: No...
Dad: Can you touch it?
Me: No...
Dad: So it isn't really a pipe. It's a picture of a pipe. It isn't reality, it's an imitation of reality.
I don't know if I fully appreciated that message at the time. But it's one I’ve come to understand today. There is a difference between a man and a picture of a man. The picture is an illusion, a fantasy. It’s an expression of what that man wishes himself to be perceived as; and an impression of what the viewer wishes to perceive. The man is the man.
I realize that posting pictures of ourselves online is a double-edged sword: On the one hand, you put your image out there and hopefully find support and meet people who like what they see; on the other, your image can become the object of interest, not you.
And there's a fundamentally important question that we need to be honest about: Does posting images online help us find meaningful relationships/encounters/friendships? Or does it enable objectification that expressly impedes anything meaningful? My personal answer is in the gray area somewhere between the two.
To find that answer, we must first look at the causes. Ultimately, I think objectification in our community sprouts from two sources: our obsession with a single body part and—to a much larger degree—the slow process by which we gradually learn to live with (and eventually love) this kink.
Q: WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT FLESHY THING AROUND A BELLY?
A: A PERSON
I joked about it in my last post, but easily the single most common greeting I get online is “How’s the belly?” Most guys don’t want to know how I’m doing, they want to see what’s shakin with my food processor (and I don’t mean my Cuisinart). Our kink is focused heavily on a single body part—the belly—and that simple fact makes it all too easy to de-humanize the guys we see online.
I’d try to act incredulous, but I’d be a hypocrite for doing so. Because I too am guilty of objectification of my brethren from time to time. I’ve spent many a subway ride ogling the belly stuffed into a too-small shirt. And I sometimes let my fantasies run wild looking at pictures of icons like sfgutmuscle and hogbelly, ignoring the fact that I know them personally.
And I too am guilty of manipulating the “reality” of my own pictures. I’ve taken photos to accentuate my finer features and at times pushed my belly out more to create a larger silhouette. I’ve posed in ways to project a more masculine image, to project a certain fantasy. And I certainly have enjoyed the attention paid to my body, my belly, my accomplishments.
We love bellies. There’s not much we can do about it. We like what we like. And sometimes that love can lead to objectification. But I think we can love a single body part without always objectifying the man who possesses it. Most of the time, objectification is more the product of our state-of-mind, than our simple love of bellies. It’s less about the photos we take or the image we project and more about the mentality of the viewer.
In the end, it’s mostly about the walls the viewer had built in his own head.
MR. GORBACHEV, TEAR DOWN THIS WALL
Walls are useful. They help keep things out that we don’t want in, and they protect us from possible threats. But they can also be harmful.
When coming to terms with our kink, we go through certain phases. First is denial—we’ve all been there. Then when we get over that, there’s a cautious acceptance: “Yes, I have this kink, but it’s not really a part of me. It’s just some weird quirk that I dabble in.” It’s at this moment in our development that we begin building a wall in our brain. On one side of the wall are all our gainer kinks, fantasies and desires. On the other side, is everything else.
I’ll be the first to admit that when I started to meet men online, I objectified and de-humanized them. I made sure I kept my encounters with anyone from the gainer community separate from my “normal” life. To me, it was safer to keep them on one side of the wall I’d built. It had nothing to do with whether or not they had photos or videos (many just didn’t back then, it was the dark ages of 2002, after all).
As any of you who’ve tried the same know, that’s not a charade you can keep up for long. Sooner or later, you have to start melding the two worlds. And as soon as I started tearing down that wall, the objectification of other guys with this kink began to fade.
De-humanizing someone who is perceived as a threat is a perfectly natural human response—it's what enables soldiers to kill their enemies with little hesitation or allows you to turn your nose at homeless panhandlers without feeling like a total dick. Though this reaction is natural, it's far from ideal. De-humanizing others allows us to be OK with the shitty things we do to them. It’s why some guys can stand you up in the rain and not think twice.
For those who still have some or all of that barrier up—and let’s be honest, that’s probably a majority of guys who have this kink—the walled world is all they know. It’s just easier to think of a man as an object, the sum of his parts (his pictures, videos and web chat) than to see him as simply a person.
CECI EST UN HOMME
So what does all this mean for that nagging question: Should we or shouldn’t we post photos of our ourselves online? Well, regardless of whether or not we post photos or videos of ourselves, some will objectify us and some will not. Those who are more at ease with their kink will see us as equals—as real human beings—no matter what and those with heavy gainer baggage will continue to see us as objects of lust.
The good news is that the more guys who are confident and honest about themselves online, who stand for something positive and empowering, the more our community’s collective confidence seems to come out. And as that happens to a greater degree, we’ll see more of those walls come tumbling down.
While I’ve felt objectified more than a few times since first posting pictures of myself online, I can safely say that the reward—the truly amazing mix of guys I’ve met and friendships I’ve forged over the years—has been well worth the trouble.
The ones who matter know that “This is a man.”
Oh and before I forget, a quick thank you to gainingjock for putting together that awesome image for this blog posting.
ReplyDeleteWow, another insightful, interesting post. I appreciate the openness, its extremely nice to hear. Fearless! -Lewis Meyer
ReplyDeleteI agree wholeheartedly with everything you just said here. With many of us gainers and the like out there posting our pics and videos on hundreds of sites, we are mainly objectifying ourselves to the masses, making our bodies seem like a piece of meat (or rather a celebrity who carves the attention from the paparazzi when they blow their nose) rather than a human being.
ReplyDeleteAnd its important to be sure of yourself offline as well as online. If you are not sure of yourself, then you are just an attention-loving fool in love with empty compliments and false hope.
I sometimes hate being this big because in all the glamor and constant loving attention from the chasers and encouragers, there isn't much other than "How's the belly" and "I want that sexy belly." What about me? That belly is connected to me, you know. If no one notices that I have a personality connected to this body of mine, then I might as well sell my soul to Hollywood and constantly damage my body for attention.
So you are a man. I am a man. Big or small, we are men, not just a picture for anyone's fantasy.
I often worry about being just a belly to someone. That's one of the reasons I keep thinking about changing my username. I came up with Bigbelliedone very quickly and perhaps a bit rashly when I first started joining gaining related sites. It's so narrowly focused and maybe sends the wrong message that a belly is all I am or all I care about. Like you said I just want that to be a part of me, not everything. I need to think of something different. But how do you come up with a name that encompasses all of you? I'm still working on that. Integration is also something I've been thinking about lately as well. I don't want all the parts of my life to be separate, but that might be more of a long term goal. Something to work on over time for me. Anyways, another great, thought provoking post. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThank goodness I've never started a conversation with you by asking, "How's the belly?"!
ReplyDeleteYou mention that posting pictures is a double-edged sword, and I think in large part this has to do with the fact that the reason we post pictures is often to enjoy both edges of the blade. For me, at least, I want my pictures to show a spark of personality that sets me apart from the crowd, but there can be great appeal to something we've worked hard to build being celebrated as an object, until the objectification becomes exclusively empty and anonymous.
In terms of looking at other guys, I tend to find that once I've found someone pleasant to talk to, his pictures look that much better and if he's a pill his pictures become hard to swallow. Here's to continuing the amazing mix. Of guys. Not pills.
While I agree with most of the things said I do disagree with a few things... Mainly, and I do know that I an guilty of this myself in early conversations with you yourself that I have asked towards the beginning of a conversation 'How's the belly' and I actually questioned it at the time.
ReplyDeleteI did wonder why I had asked this person how their belly was instead of how they were, I consider almost everyone I chat to as a friend, whether they be a gainer or not, and I certainly don't ask my friends I run into on the street how their belly is (expect for this one time when a friend if mine burnt his belly while firetwriling.... but thats a different story).
I simply found the thought process interesting and a little demeaning towards you, I mean, I know your not just a belly floating around, and I also know that as a fellow gainer you don't mind that occassional question focussed on your belly, I don't either.
I guess I just don't completely agree with the fact that if someone hasn't broken down the walls then they see you more as an object than as a person... I have been lurking around on the boards and sites for years and talked to only a few people until recently, however those few that I did talk to I believe I have always viewed them as friends more than gainers. I constantly seek out their advice on issues as friends, and commonly on issues that have nothing to do with gaining (I asked a friend rougharoundtheedgesuk about job advice, and he was very helpful in the area).
I guess my point is that until recently I have simply lurked the site and only started posting pics and being more of an active member in the amazing community in the last few months and since then, yes I have had more people attempt to get in contact with me, but I have still only just started breaking down the walls myself and I believe I still treated fellow gainers with respect as individuals instead of simply de-humanized images we use late at night in a dark room.
As always a throughly interesting read, Cheers sfbaydude02 and can't wait to read more
-Chubbycuboz (Luke)
Eloquent and insightful post, as always. I used to worry about the same issue myself, the issue of objectifying the people we find attractive. After all, in my fantasies, I have done things to people I know that I would never dream of actually asking them to do. Is that a form of dehumanization? I always worried it was, and I still would, if it weren't for one of my high school teachers.
ReplyDeleteI was involved in the TV production program at my high school for all four years I was there, and the teacher of that program (yes, there was only one; he was an amazing man that way) was something of a silver daddy. Though he wasn't particularly big, as I continued taking his classes, I found myself more and more attracted to him. He tended to wear shirts that would result in him showing a bit of his underbelly when he raised his arms, which he did quite a bit when he taught; he was casual that way. His belly was quite shapely, and his beard made him even more attractive. However, he was also a really genuine, kind, compassionate, intelligent person. I respected him, plain and simple, and as the years went on, I respected him more and more. It also helped that because I was a hard-working student in his class (one of few; art classes are like that), and for other reasons, he grew to respect me as well, so our mutual respect grew. Point is, I really respected him as a person, even if, when I was home alone, I would do unspeakable things to him in my head (unspeakable in good company, mind you; I could certainly speak of them in a forum like a gaining chat room or this blog's comment section).
The key was that, because I respected him so much as a person, my thoughts of how attractive he was never interfered with our friendship. I could stare longingly at his underbelly when he lifted his arms in class and converse with him about the merits of Hitchcock after class, not five minutes later. I suppose I built up a wall in my head between my physical attraction towards him and my view of him as a person, and that wall served me quite well in high school. It prevented me from dehumanizing him while still allowing me to enjoy the spectacle that was his appearance; it allowed me to have the best of both worlds.
Point is, if someone has the personality to back up the pudge, it's easy to avoid objectifying them. If someone only defines themselves by their belly, then like many people who define themselves by their body, objectification is really what they are asking for. As long as that isn't the case, then respect comes pretty naturally.
As a related note to my last comment (which I didn't think to include while writing it), when I read this blog, I often forget that the person writing it is that hot guy from BiggerCity. The wall between physical stimulation and intellectual stimulation is so embedded in my brain that I completely forget about sfbaydude02's body when I read the fantastic creations of his mind.
ReplyDeleteWhile I agree in general, I have to point out that I think many of us go through phases. Sometimes, all we really want to do is objectify someone's belly and fulfill sexual desires (hence, "How's the belly?"). Other times, we're starved for more intellectual conversation like we're having here on this blog. Right now, I'm in the latter, but that may not last.
ReplyDelete