Overweight, Male and Having to Be Shirtless

Not me.

I've been blogging in some form or other since 1997, mostly for an audience of my friends. I've explored everything from bowel movements to public nudity, but this is the one post I kinda wish my friends wouldn't read. I've finally found a line that is difficult for me to cross. But for some reason, it's easier to tell strangers.

One of the most difficult pieces of writing I've done was telling the story of being diagnosed with chronic anxiety and realizing I suffered from it all my life. Because it gets into the stigma of mental illness, I feel like some friendships haven't quite been the same since. Yet, I have no regrets. Disclosing everything is what I do.

Some things, however, are embarrassing to admit. But today an overweight man confessed to me that he'd like to take up swimming as his much-needed physical activity but was afraid of the embarrassment. I decided then that this blog post was long overdue.

I have suffered tremendous anxiety over the issue of taking off my shirt in public over most of my life and have missed out on a great, great deal of things because of it. And I remember vividly the moment it started.

I was somewhere between the age of six and eight years old. It was a hot summer day and my best friend came over to play as he did almost every day. We were already inseparable friends for life at that point. We decided to play under the sprinkler or go in a paddling pool (I can't remember which.) He went home, got his bathing suit and returned. After he rang the door bell I showed up at the back door in my bathing suit and he laughed at me. I was starting to become overweight for the first time in my life and he had said something about me starting to grow breasts.

A switch went off in me. I said calmly, "I don't want to swim today" and I closed the door, changed into my clothes and we played something else. I'm not sure I swam in public again in public as a kid. Maybe a time or two at the beach with my dad but I was very self-conscious.

In grade eight I signed up for the wrestling team, coached by the same friend who was now in high school (I had to repeat grade two.) At the weigh-in, people laughed when 200 (pounds) showed up on the scale. I was nearly six feet tall and I wasn't that much overweight. I was fine with the whole school knowing I had hit a landmark weight that no one else had reached. I was told I would have to compete in a rare weight class.

I could train for wrestling with my shirt on so I was fine but I knew when the completion day came, I would have to take off my shirt. I was consumed with this for every waking moment of my life leading up to the competition. When the day finally came and I was tagged to get into the ring, I wasn't sure I was going to do it. But I took off my shirt and a great weight lifted from my shoulders. I had done what I had spent too much time dreading. Turns out I got dropped on my head moments into my match by a strong giant of a young man, but hey, I had faced shirtlessness and competed as an athlete for the first and last time in my life.

I got a second place ribbon because there were only two people in the city in that weight group. I still have it to this day and it's a source of pride. I'd like to tell you that I got over the issue then, but I did not.

I signed up for optional gym classes in high school but dreaded--really dreaded--days when "shirts" played "skins" in sports. I don't know if the teachers sensed my anxiety but I managed to somehow avoid being on the skins team dozens of times. The couple of times I was on the skins team, I was paralysed by embarrassment and anxiety. No fun was had.

Then came the most shameful episode of shirtlessness. When my gym teacher announced we'd be going swimming for two months of weekly classes, my insides almost fell onto the floor. I started jogging on my own time trying desperately to lose weight but without any education on the matter. I had no idea what I was doing and it was impossible too lose very much weight in a short period of time anyway.

I skipped the swimming classes, one at a time. It was easy to skip gym class. The teachers rarely reported you. But I knew I had to show up for class eventually, there were just too many swimming outings to miss. I came up with a plan at the last second, and out of all the stupid things I've done in my life, this was right up there. I decided to manually rip the inseam in my bathing suit at lunch time and claim I couldn't swim that day when I was already at the pool. No one would catch on, I thought. They did. My George Costanza-like  plan fooled no one. I was deeply ashamed and decided to swim anyway with a ripped and revealing bathing suit, tense body and arms folded over my fatty bits.

Of course, I always really liked being in water. Almost all kids do. A lifetime of excuses and anxiety over shirtlessness entailed. I'm not the only one. The internet is full of stories like mine.

When my wife and I bought our first house, I got the idea to save up for a steel above ground pool. I was freelancing at the time and had the opportunity to take on extra work. I worked for 60-80 hours or more every week for several months so I could buy a pool. In the end I spent several thousand dollars on it including a heater.

I remember the early summer day when it was ready to enter. Walking into the crystal clear, luxuriously-warm water sent waves of happy childhood memories through me. And the realization of all that had been lost in my life.