By Robbie Poteet
I always wanted to be beautiful, because I thought that being beautiful meant being loved. As someone who started his life out being rejected, being loved seemed to be a basic human right that I was denied. I don’t remember my childhood very well, but from what I’m told, I was taken from my mother at a young age because I was constantly being left in unsafe situations. The last straw was when I was found all by myself at 3 years old crawling across a busy street. So, I went to live with my dad. I believe he did the best he could, but he had his own issues that I don’t think he ever faced.
As someone who wasn’t genetically gifted, I’ve always been intrigued by watching those with more symmetrical faces walk down easy street. Growing up I always played the role of the token fat kid. AT. EVERY. SCHOOL.
I was always watching and to me it seemed that the most beautiful people had the most friends. They went to the cool parties and they seemed destined to be the most successful. I didn’t start making friends until I started losing weight, by force I had to take a weight training class where I lost about 50 lbs. I had more confidence and I started getting invited to do fun things. For the first time in my life I had friends.
Being gay has only advanced my obsession, because let’s be real, a hot guy with a hard body can walk up to some people and treat them like ABSOLUTE GARBAGE and will still have you slippin’ into his DM’s when you’re home alone. THAT is the world we live in: The prettier you are, the better you get treated. I think some people may try to deny it, but I have 30 years of personal research that says otherwise. About 6 months ago I started lifting weights heavily and my tits have doubled in size and my T-Rex arms have filled out. I did this because I have anxiety issues and the gym really helps me combat it, but with my new size I’ve had people offer to fly me to Europe, pay my rent or buy me shoes just to do an activity with me. I’ve recently moved into a new apartment and I posted about that on my Instagram and multiple men have offered to buy me furniture. WHAT IS THAT!? When I was fat I never had men asking to buy me a microwave.
I know what you’re thinking and NO, I have never taken anybody up on one of these offers. I haven’t had to resort to prostitution…. Yet.
Why? Why is this OK? Why is the way someone looks more important than who they are? Why are strangers willing to do insane things to be next to someone who is deemed beautiful? We don’t focus on things that really matter. Instead of following the guy who shows the most skin, we should be role modeling people who are out there fighting for change and social justice. We should be cheering on people that are trying to better the world. Not the guy with the hardest stomach.
Through all my transformations, I’ve been the same person inside: An insecure, goofy, happy-go-luck person that is just looking for his place in the world. Sometimes I go too fast and I forget to slow down and nourish my own heart. I’ve got a lot of big goals and I love crossing shit off my to-do list, I can let other people get to me because I’m so desperate for validation and it’s exhausting, And you know what? FUCK IT- I’m tired.
I’m standing at a point where I am learning to love myself. I’m doing things for myself and I’m doing what’s best for me. That’s a powerful kind of love because I have my own back and it can’t be taken away. I’m DONE having anxiety and worrying about people are thinking, I’m DONE sitting silently because I don’t want to say the wrong thing and I am DONE looking for acceptance in the wrong places. I’ve always been judged by who people think they know who I am, but don’t really I know who I am. I’m ready to take a fucking breathe and just be myself. If someone doesn’t like or accept me, then GUESS WHAT? That’s fine. I WILL be fine.
I know what I can do and I talk about my trauma a lot because that’s where I draw my strength. I’m a BADASS and I’m A LOT smarter than I get credit for. I have been through enough and come out on top if the other side. I can HANDLE myself and my shit. I don’t want to a princess and I’m not waiting to be saved. I’ll always be aware of my appearance but I’m ready to create something beautiful, because all I’ve ever really wanted was to be loved and I have so much love to give.