In a culture fueled by the intense pressures of achieving sex appeal in order to be loved, I completely bought in. Movies, television, and commercials put such a powerful emphasis on external beauty. The advertising masterminds trigger our carnal nature with sexual images that entice us to respond in a specific way. Their creative sexual placements usually tie back to the desire for love. If I buy this bar of soap, I will magically look like Channing Tatum and all of these models will want to “love me”. They may succeed at shaping our consumer habits, but they have engraved a much more dangerous value into our society: a belief that we as people must be “beautiful” to find love. Self worth is no longer based on who we are as people, but how we appear on the outside. Women feel pressure to be skinnier, bustier, more toned, more fit, glamorous, and promiscuous. Men are taught to look like Calvin Klein jean models with rock hard abs, broad shoulders, and large pecks, all packaged up in a tailored suit. Society force feeds these values down our throats and we have completely lost sight of loving who we are. These societal pressures had destroyed my self image. I believed that my deepest desire to be loved would only be fulfilled if I looked like a male stripper from Magic Mike. If I was anything short of that, my hope for love was lost. The well-crafted lies of the devil created a shroud insecurity that tore me down from the inside out. Every thought, action, and decision in my life was strategically made seeking to achieve my worth as a man. I started down a dark road of smoke and mirrors that left me feeling empty and alone. That endless road began in 2007 with my need to ‘get bigger’.
Turning 13 is a pretty big deal. That is the age that our bodies start changing and we stop treating the opposite sex like they are the bubonic plague. As the male-female dynamics of my middle school class unfolded, I adopted a role as the tiny, funny one, while my best friend was the Hollister model. The girls all drooled over him while I was in the background trying to make everyone laugh. He was tall, charming, and handsome. I was 4’10”, 82 pounds, and I could have been easily mistaken for a 5th grader. My size instantly became my biggest insecurity. After months of rejection, I was determined to change the way I looked. If I could just get bigger all of my problems would be solved (as if). My mom gave me a book on goals, and I set my sights on the prize of resembling a modern day, 8th grade, Hercules. I dedicated myself to a daily ritual of 400 push ups and 400 sit ups. For 8 months, I religiously sculpted my body. I didn’t miss a day, not even Christmas. That was where my relentless commitment to earning worth through my physical appearance began. I slowly started to like what I saw when I looked in the mirror. My impenetrable 8-pack was the trophy for my hard work. I couldn’t wait to show it off. All the girls would love me now because chicks love abs right? My self confidence was slowly building, but hollow fulfillment was just a temporary fix. The bandaid would soon be ripped off and the knife would cut deeper.
My friends were impressed by my physical stature. One night at a sleep over, they suggested that it would be a good idea for me to post a picture of my abs on Myspace. I was elated with the affirming attention I was receiving and jumped on the band wagon. The picture was intense. My frame was still little, but each muscle was clearly chiseled on my body. This was the moment to change what everyone thought about my size. I posted the picture and went to sleep. I awoke the next morning anxious to see the feedback from my peers. My excitement was met with horror as I was bombarded with harsh comments. “You look like an alien” and “You look like Gollum from Lord of the Rings”, were the common themes among the responses. Each word tore me down inside. I had worked so hard for this moment only to be rejected and mocked. I was completely devastated. I quickly deleted the picture, but people had already saved it from the web. It became known as the “Gollum picture” and it became a topic in discussion for years to come. It even went as far as to be brought up to me within the last year before I left for the race, 8 years later. I chose to respond like I did to everything else: with humor. If I just laughed along with everyone, they wouldn’t know how much that really hurt me. The self confidence I had built was shattered and I continued to backslide. I had swallowed the lie that I would never look good enough to be loved. I would always be too small or too scrawny. I never again liked what I saw when I looked in the mirror.
A few years later I finally grew into my body, but my self image was already completely jaded. Over the years I spent countless hours in the gym working to look like the cover of a Mens Health magazine, only to face constant disappointment. I did cycles of body building. I would meticulously plan my workouts and follow a disciplined eating regiment. I spent a small fortune on protein powders, pre-workout, and workout equipment. I hired trainers and sought professional help. In my most desperate times, I went as far as to go through two cycles of steroids. No matter what I tried, I was never satisfied. I would look in the mirror and see everything that was wrong with me. I was still too small. I was still too scrawny. The corrupt voice in my head had eroded my self confidence. People would compliment my stature, but I did not believe them. The lies I was believing always robbed me of hearing the truths that were actually spoken over me.
I came across this picture recently from the beginning of 2014. This was my “before” picture for the Insanity program. I sent it to my dad and he was baffled that I was just starting Insanity and still wanted to change. He thought I looked good, but inside I was not satisfied. I was constantly disappointed when I looked in the mirror. I was still to small. I was still not good enough for love. That really demonstrates the power the enemies lies hold over us in our flesh.
Insecurity was the war the enemy has waged on my mind. Moments like these shaped how I viewed the world and perceived my self worth. I truly believed I would never be lovable and good enough. These were the lies that our society continued to reinforce. Everything can always be improved or made better. We are taught to do everything besides find rest in loving who we really are. We try to put band aids on our insecurities, but they keep getting ripped off. As soon as we make progress on one area, he tears another hole somewhere else. Our minds are consumed with the endless lies satan has been feeding us for years and it seems impossible to ever feel at peace. We are caught up in the endless cycle or earning our worth as human beings. Working out was one of my band aids. What I really needed was a transformation in my heart and a relationship with Christ.
When I came on the race, I was still really struggling with wanting to earn my worth through my physical stature. I was still extremely insecure with myself and I was following a workout regiment to keep up my body. One night in Ecuador, the Lord asked me to give it up. I was journaling and He asked me to set aside physical activity until I was doing it for the right reason. He wanted me to be at a place where I really loved who I am and I was doing it to feel healthy, not because it was a temporary fix for my jaded self worth. As hard as it was, I acted in obedience.
7 months later, I have officially started working out again! This time I am doing it for all the right reasons. My motivation is getting in shape to play basketball when I get home. That is my biggest passion and I want to push myself to get better at something I love. It is amazing how pressing into my God-given identity has really allowed working out to become an activity I really enjoy. There is no pressure or expectation, it is just a way I can love my physical temple. I am even focusing on my legs, which is a huge step for me! I can honestly say I do not care what my body looks like anymore. I feel so much freedom and a deeper love for myself. When I look in the mirror, I love who I see. I do not need an 8 pack to be loved. I am lovable as I am, and finding peace in that is such a tremendous victory in my soul!
