admiration, affirmation, body, body shaming, love, manhood, men, penis, Walt Whitman
I love the male form.
I love the way men are put together. We share so many of the same body parts, and while for me (as a heterosexual woman) the attraction lies in the differences, I’m thinking at the moment of a stirring similarity.
Women deal daily with body shaming. It’s a huge issue for us. Some of us are told daily that we’re ugly because we’re fat, and others of my sisters are accused of being “not a real woman” because they don’t have curves. We worry if our breasts are too small or our asses too large. We worry about postpartum bellies and if we have enough–too much–not enough–pubic hair. 99% of us aren’t built like Playboy Playmates, and never will be.
At our worst, we cry over our appearance. We feel fat and ugly and don’t want to leave the house. Sometimes at our best, the most positive self-talk we can muster is “Well, I’m having a good hair day, but for the most part, I’m unimpressive.”
Men don’t talk about this like we do, but it’s not because they don’t think about it. Out there right now are men who looked in the mirror while shaving this morning and frowned at the start of a double chin. There are men who stand before a camera hoping to take a sexy picture for someone special and suck in their gut self-consciously. There are men leaving their shirts on during sex because they’re uncomfortable being naked.
I know you have the same hangups we do. Maybe it’s not as pronounced, but I know the media, the porn industry, Madison Avenue–they’re making you feel like you don’t measure up. You might not obsess over it like we do, but you think about it.
Plus, you have your penis to be concerned about.
It is a man’s Achilles heel. I know for a fact that the 99% of you not built like porn stars have a love-hate relationship with that particular appendage. I have yet to meet a man in the buff who has not asked if his penis was “okay,” looking for approval and affirmation. Usually it’s in the way of an apology.
“It’s not that big.”
“Hey, I’ve never had any complaints.”
Here’s the thing, guys. I love your penis. In fact, I love your whole body.
I don’t care if you’re carrying a few extra pounds around the middle or if you have a 6-pack of abs. I’ll run my hands over a sweet, flat ass just as willingly as I will a soft, round one. I love a fair-haired, light skinned man and a dark, swarthy dude just the same. I adore thick pelts of chest hair and a mass of pubes, and I’m turned on by a baby-smooth chest and bare balls in equal measure.
And I love your cock.
It’s beautiful when it’s hard. Your arousal is a total turn-on to me. Big, small, thick, short, skinny…it’s lovely. I want to see you hold it, to display it proudly, especially if it’s just for me, in private. Especially if I’ve done something to get you in that state. I love that you can bring yourself pleasure and I want to hear about it, to see it, to share it. I don’t care if it’s huge–the truth is that the 99% of us who don’t look like a porn stars love men who don’t either.
Your hard cock is lovely.
But it is beautiful when it’s flaccid.
I know. The very essence of your manhood is at times, small. But here’s a secret: it’s not the size or the hardness that makes me weak in the knees. It is in the expression of a well-formed man, a part of your body electric. You are certainly more than your penis, and it takes more than that one body part to make you a man, but to see you bare and to admire your masculine form is a special treat. I love to catch a glimpse of it while you shower, or through the slightly open bathroom door while you get dressed. I will run my hands over the soft bulge in your pants just to admire your manhood in the same way you’ll run your hand over the soft curve of a womanly hip as you walk by.
I admire men of all types, all sizes and all shapes.
Smooth bald heads and wild-man beards.
Strong, chiseled chins and soft lips.
Big beer bellies and chicken legs.
A big bear of a man I have to stand on tiptoe to hug, and one I can tower over in a pair of heels.
I love the man who looks in the mirror and sees nothing all that special. The man who sees himself as average, not much to look at–the guy who is frowning at himself right now, comparing himself to an underwear model or a porn star and coming up short.
The guy who is looking down at his flaccid penis and thinking it’s unimpressive and wondering why anyone would want to see it.
I’ll tell you why.
It’s because you’re a man, and you’re beautiful and wonderfully made.