Warped Sense Of Physicality Due To Abuse?

[Chris4TheMill]

[Trigger Warning]

I was going to write this on someone's old post but decided to start a new one instead.

A lot of guys here say they hate being sensitive because in society's eyes, Sensitive + Male = Weak.

Well, I have decided that I like being sensitive. I used to think it was a weakness, but now feel like I can turn it into a strength in so many different types of situations. Because I have. It is now more an ally and not just a foe. It can, however, be a weakness in some situations too (professionally) - won't deny that. But I probably didn't belong in those situations to begin with.

What I still struggle with is feeling less of a man because of physical characteristics. A lot of it goes back to the one guy who molested me in Florida. He was this tall, large guy with dark hair and a body that looked like the epitome of masculinity back then - lots of chest hair, broad shoulders, big hands, etc.

Meanwhile, I was this skinny, puny kid with barely any body hair to speak of. We both wore glasses. As an adult I am still on the short and thinner side, but hardly what you would call puny anymore. But I feel puny. I still struggle with feeling like I was still that kid back in Florida. And I still think back to this guy as the masculine ideal in a lot of ways. In my mind I constantly compare myself to him and others like him, and I think that has warped my ability to find true peace inside of my own body.

I suspect this guy from Florida probably looks old now. He's got to be over 70 now, and I know he lost his hair long ago. But the image of him when I was 11 is stuck in my mind and haunts me. I guess in some ways this is similar to guys who saw their father naked as a kid and still feel like they can never measure up.

I am still a bit stuck in this limiting belief system. I mean, logically I know it is true that guys come in different shapes and sizes. Some people like their partners to be certain types of guys, others like other types. Not everyone necessarily needs or wants tall, dark, and handsome...at least that is what I have seen and have been told. But I still wish I were different than I am physically. And I feel like these feelings have been exponentially increased because of who molested me.

Maybe it is the desire to feel more powerful, so that I wouldn't be hurt again...

Wondering who else can relate to this.

- Chris

 

[traveler]

[Trigger Warning] What I still struggle with is feeling less of a man because of physical characteristics. A lot of it goes back to the one guy who molested me in Florida. He was this tall, large guy with dark hair and a body that looked like the epitome of masculinity back then - lots of chest hair, broad shoulders, big hands, etc.

Meanwhile, I was this skinny, puny kid with barely any body hair to speak of. We both wore glasses. As an adult I am still on the short and thinner side, but hardly what you would call puny anymore. But I feel puny. I still struggle with feeling like I was still that kid back in Florida. And I still think back to this guy as the masculine ideal in a lot of ways. In my mind I constantly compare myself to him and others like him, and I think that has warped my ability to find true peace inside of my own body.

. . . But the image of him when I was 11 is stuck in my mind and haunts me. I guess in some ways this is similar to guys who saw their father naked as a kid and still feel like they can never measure up.

I am still a bit stuck in this limiting belief system. I mean, logically I know it is true that guys come in different shapes and sizes. . . . But I still wish I were different than I am physically. And I feel like these feelings have been exponentially increased because of who molested me.

Maybe it is the desire to feel more powerful, so that I wouldn't be hurt again...

Wondering who else can relate to this.

- Chris

BIG TRIGGER!!!


Yeah – I can relate.

I had a fragile sense of self because the step=dad abuser was always comparing me to his dead older son who was apparently perfect in every way. I was 5 ½ when he married mom. His son was about 10-11 when he died. I could not measure up. The stepdad also showered with me and with his junk at eye level I was forced to compare myself to him. He of course was a full grown adult with lots of body hair, gnarly looking man-sized genitals and an out of shape torso. I found him repugnant. Especially when he touched me. He also made disparaging comments about how weak, useless and awkward I was. And what a sissy and how girly I was.

My next abuser was the school bully - a teen when I was 11. He was the epitome of masculine beauty and perfection in my eyes. He was an adolescent Hercules – muscular, athletic, strong, and charismatic. He was nearly hairless – even before the current male body shaving craze. His huge genitals were porn star size and proportions. He also treated me with contempt and cruelty – but more distantly, disinterestedly and casually. He had his henchmen do most of his dirty work. I don’t think he ever laid a hand on me.

Compared to both these male examples, I was small, puny, unimpressive and far from a masculine ideal. Obviously, one I wanted nothing to do with and did not want to emulate, but the other I longed to resemble.

What made everything more confusing was that compared to my peers, at 11 I was well-developed – precocious in the genital size, appearance and maturity. In that area, I looked more like the step-dad than the bully. But in stature and body size, I was average for my age. Because I was so far ahead of my peers sexually and so out of proportion, I was an object of fascination and ridicule, an unwilling center and magnet of attention. I was repeatedly forced to show my body to the curious, who laughed, taunted, and forcibly aroused me. The teasing and comments followed me everywhere I went. I was ogled and groped on the bus and in the rest room and locker room. I felt like a freakish, under-developed appendage to an over-sized set of organs.

Ironically, it was this precocity that brought me to the attention of the bully – and motivated him to take an interest in me. i think it was a sense of rivalry and having to prove that he was still top dog.

The result of the comparisons with step-dad, peers and bully was that I felt simultaneously too small and too large, too mature and not mature enough. It was thoroughly confusing. I still feel completely embarrassed and ashamed to be seen nude by anyone. I don’t know how they will see me – as too little or too big. I have never felt normal, even though my body eventually caught up to my genitals and I know that statistically, I am within the reasonably average range. But my feelings won't match up with my mental knowledge. I am still screwed up in this area.

Lee

 

[kcinohio]

Yes, there is some body image issues that can result from this. In my experience they ease up after an extended time of recovery from the abuse. The perception of smallness can still linger while working through things though.

 

[i-m-Bri]

The kid who assaulted me in the playground was smaller then me. That really screwed up how I saw myself. I saw myself as weak, pathetic and fundamentally flawed. It was obvious I wasn't even a boy.

It's taken decades to see a more rounded image of myself. I remember it well. I was at the gym. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a masculine guy. It was my reflection in a mirror. The magic evaporated when I realized. But I couldn't deny what I saw and thought the second before. I saw what I looked like without all the bullshit fields distorting it. It's like the Matrix cracked open.

I bet you can find admirable, masculine men in all the categories you fit into. The abuse taught that it was you, not the category. I hope you find a way to see beyond what he tried to teach you.

 

[Saleboat66]

it’s cruelly humorous how alone and isolated and strange I think my thoughts and distorted self view is, and then I read a post like yours and I feel very relieved to not be a virtual stranger in every part of my waking world, very happy to read that a fellow “ member” is seeing what is real and true and powerful and frankly awesome about being a man, and then I settle back to the understanding today, that any clarity for me around seeing myself any other way than what I do doesn’t even feel foreign, it feels like nothing at all.

One second to reflect back what I am by virtue of who I am, and not who I became through someone else’s greed and need, I’m 52, the last 20 years are to me what can only be experienced as a blink, and I’m on the other side of this mountain, and I feel farther and farther away from the only thing I have ever sought, and did unhealthy things in attempts to get, to absorb from what I cannot see or feel in myself, but then that mirror refelects back, and every piece of that picture is misaligned with my internal conviction, and instead of embracing the man I see, I hate the person I am, every day that much more

 

[i-m-Bri]

Hopein14,

It is possible to break out of those distorting mirrors.
It is possible to like and even love yourself.
Hammer the shit that stands in your way, not yourself.

What did you seek?

 

[Ceremony]

There has been a secret I've suffered, and only this site, and my therapist have heard about it. I'm also doing some other work on this issue. I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. It's been debilitating to be involved with activities. I can tie this directly to extreme bullying pre and the way too long delay of puberty. Unnoticed except, finally some hair! I've obsessed, spent hours, days, and some weeks without other thoughts. Searched countless medical books, and finally asked a doctor, who dismissed me, though rightly noted I need therapy. I had no idea why I needed therapy for what I considered a testosterone or other problem? Why couldn't anyone help me? So, life in my head, with extreme self loathing about my body, adding in stuffing down the trauma and pain about not being wanted, it's been a wonder of mine, why I bothered?


This seems like I'm hijacking, because this isn't about what I'm writing.


This is a huge deal for me.

 

[i-m-Bri]

I just finished preparing my smoothies for the week. There is something satisfying about devoting the slight effort towards health and fitness. These aren’t just the realms of the handsome, privileged or alpha. My kitchen work is an affirmation and testimony to my self worth.

I once believed I wasn't entitled to the muscular body I wanted. That even my dream was stealing something from real men. I felt if I were to engage in my ambition it would soil their greatness. That's the fucked up thinking my abuse left me with.

 

[Saleboat66]

I don't even know how to answer this or what exactly is being asked, I apologize for my intellectual lapse?

 

[Chris4TheMill]

Lee, kcinohio, Bri, Ceremony, and Hopein14,

Thanks for sharing and for keeping the dialog going. I can relate to so many things that everyone has said so far.

Hopein14 - I echo Bri's question earlier, regarding what you were seeking way back when.

I can't speak for anyone per se, but I understand that some of us, post-abuse, at times have this strong belief/urge that we need to be with a certain type of man, so that we can "absorb" his supposed masculinity. One that we feel we lack. I understand now that this is a misguided sort of emotional neediness that only gets worse until we stop it at its core - i.e. change how we see ourselves, and learn to accept ourselves. That's exactly what some of us are working on.

I'm not finding it easy at all, but I have seen progress. That's basically what this post is about - figuring out how to disengage from the imprints and distortions that were left on us from bullying, abuse, sexual assault, and all related trauma.

Some guys are going to have a much easier time breaking free than others. I would count myself as one who is still struggling, yet has come a long way nonetheless. I don't expect it's ever going to be over. But the process of accepting oneself as one is, is a work in progress, and seems to require some effort. Because the thoughts and feelings that run through our brain, have a tendency to keep coming back until we can somehow get past them.