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The Daily Tar Heel

Brave man talking

Finding the courage to speak up

This column is part of a summer series that will focus on college-aged men and women’s perceptions of beauty and body image issues.

Believe it or not, living at Chapel Ridge this summer has taught me something beyond how to play dizzy bat. I learned that the word “peacock” is a verb.

I turn the corner towards the gates of the pool during the mid-afternoon hours to see at least ten greasy juiceheads puffing their chests out in their own form of “peacocking;” that is, trying to separate themselves from the crowd by ensuring that everyone is
very much aware how much they look like Arnold Schwarzenegger.

It’s time to swallow our pride and admit that, as guys, we care more about our own image than we’re willing to let on.

An estimated 10 to 15 percent of people with anorexia or bulimia are male, but many are unwilling to admit they have these disorders because of the perception that they are “woman’s diseases.”
Us guys like to give off the impression that we’re above things like this, that we don’t care about how we look. But in today’s society, how can we not?

Walk into any clothing store, and you’ll find that most of the men’s shirts are carefully tailored, designed to fit leaner men. It seems that in order to succeed as a politician, a businessman or a lawyer, you need to be of a certain appearance.

And this creates a social pressure which can lead to various behaviors that turn into disorders — even before we’re aware of it.

Take for example muscle dysmorphic disorder, a condition in which people — mostly men — become obsessed with building muscle tone and becoming bigger. It often starts as a desire to fix, say, one muscle group. But it can turn into compulsive exercising, abuse of steroids and other performance-enhancing drugs. And before you know it, you’ve lost your friends, your job and your grip on a normal life.

A friend of mine on the men’s crew team says that in addition to his training, he works out three to four hours a day to put on muscle. He spends more time at the SRC than he does with friends. There’s a problem brewing there, and it’s one I doubt he’ll ever talk about.

I want to be clear: I claim no moral high ground here. None of this is foreign to me, except maybe the greasy hair part. I played football. I’ve been down the road of chasing creatine-fueled weight room battles with protein shakes and Gatorade bars more than just a couple times. And while I’ve been able to keep away from overexercising, there have been times where I could’ve let myself take things too far.

As men, avoiding admitting our own struggles is often the rule rather than the exception. Break that mold. Talking about a problem with someone who can help is a more courageous act than staying quiet and letting your quality of life suffer.
These are supposed to be the best four years of your life. Don’t spend them peacocking.

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