Dad Bod.
It’s a term used frequently and condescendingly to describe a man and his pudgy parts. Some would call it a term of endearment. But, if you’re the owner of one, the term can send a zinger into your heart.
Now granted. Most guys I know don’t spend nearly as much time focused on their weight or body image as women do. It’s quite comical when you think about it.
A man and woman are both standing naked in front of a dual vanity. The woman will look over every inch of her body, noticing and internally criticizing every curve, scar, bump, and blemish. She’ll lament the slight pooch of a belly. She’ll turn side-to-side to get a more flattering view of her thighs and ass. She’s almost always disappointed in what she sees.
And the guy? He’ll take a quick look, suck in his gut a little, and call it good. He’ll grab his balls, shake his dick and be impressed. He’ll flex a few muscles and push out his chest and be ready to face the day.
So, no. Dad Bods are not front-page articles of beauty magazines. But, it doesn’t mean that we don’t care about what people think. It doesn’t mean that we look at our bodies and don’t feel pain when we are the butt of jokes.
We know young women giggle. Or don’t notice us at all. We know wives dream of yesterday when we were lean and a six-pack gut was easy to maintain. We dream of it, too. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I had my naturally curly hair back. So much of it is gone. I used to have this impressive head of naturally curly hair. I actually gave a kid an autograph as Tom Hanks one time (true story). But, now, if I were to grow my hair out, I’d look like Art Garfunkel. That’s a painful thought to me, and the reason I wear a hat much of the time.
This Dad Bod stigma doesn’t destroy us. Most of the time we don’t give it a second thought. But, it still hurts.
We are well aware of our cultural status.
The other day I was mowing my yard with my shirt off. A couple of early-teen girls I know in our neighborhood drove by and playfully shouted out of their car window “Ew! Mr. Graham has his Dad Bod out! I’m ruined!” (or something to that effect).
I stopped and gave them my best flexing pose. I probably accentuated the comment by pooching my belly out a little more and rubbing it. I laughed along with them because we humor each other like that. They enjoy playfully harassing me. I enjoy the fun they have at my expense. Besides, I know if they ever needed anything, I’m one of the first people they would run to.
It still can cut to the heart a little though. Until you think about what it means.
In recent years, I’ve come into a new awareness of my Dad Bod. I’ve settled in my mind the reality of aging and the effects that time has on one’s physical appearance.
I’ve decided to focus less on how my body looks and more about what my body represents.
Maybe that should be a bumper sticker for the masses, regardless of gender! We have enough focus being put on personal appearance and people’s perceptions of our bodies. Hell, the amount of money, time and energy we spend on improving our bodies is embarrassing!
I can guarantee you at the end of your life, your funeral officiant isn’t going to wax eloquently about your appearance or the amount of effort you put into looking your best throughout your life. In fact, they probably won’t even mention your looks at all! The only mention of your looks on the day of your funeral will be how good they made you look lying in your coffin. And that will be a token comment; not an honest assessment.
What they will talk about is your influence.
- They will talk about your relationships.
- They will talk about your accomplishments.
- They will share the stories of your life that brought meaning to so many people.
- They will talk about the qualities of your life that mattered.
If these are the things that people will remember about us, why are we spending so much of our short life on earth investing in the wrong things; things that don’t fucking matter? I’m okay with my Dad Bod. Here’s why:
My Dad Bod represents someone who’s been absent from the gym to be present with his kids. While it’s true that I’ve spent an unnecessary amount of resources on gym memberships over the years, many of those months were wasted fees. My good intentions of looking better were overshadowed by my desire to coach my daughters’ softball teams. While it’s true that time management could have allowed me the luxury of doing both, in the day-to-day I had to make choices. I chose fatherhood.
There were many times that I could have gotten up a little earlier and hit the gym or the running trail. But, one of the most meaningful times that I got to share with my daughters growing up was making breakfast for them before school. This was no Pop-Tart in the toaster oven, people. We’re talking eggs, bacon or sausage, biscuits or waffles. And on Saturdays, there might even be some gravy! It was those moments in the day when we sat at the breakfast table, talked through the day or sat in silence that my daughters still treasure; and were the envy of their friends.
My Dad Bod represents someone who has enjoyed food and the pleasure it brings. I can always recommend a good restaurant and enjoy being in the kitchen. Conversations are had around those tables. Interesting foods have been discovered. Just the sheer fact that I’ve rarely sacrificed food for the sake of a better body brings me joy. No regrets here!
I’ve heard stories of people who’ve given up SO MANY FOODS for the sake of a better body, and I just feel sorry for them. I’m not talking about unhealthy eating as a lifestyle. We only have one body and we must take care of it. But, dammit y’all, one strip of bacon a couple of times a month isn’t going to give you a coronary. Having a bowl of sugar bomb cereal at 11 o’clock at night is not going to destroy you. It’s all about balance and moderation.
My Dad Bod represents someone with years of wisdom. You can take one look at my body and just SEE the years. New age spots, fatty tumors, scars, and new wrinkles. Every. Damn. Day. In fact, I just discovered a new fatty tumor on my arm just this morning. I could choose to focus on those images of aging, or I can choose to focus on the life experiences that I’ve learned from.
Wisdom is in short supply these days. While I get that everyone needs to carve out their own path in life, why are we choosing to make the same mistakes over and over again? Why can’t we take a moment and listen to those who’ve gone before us and the lessons they’ve learned? There is so much wisdom to learn from people!
- Wisdom in picking a healthy relationship.
- Wisdom in communicating better.
- Wisdom in sexual fulfillment.
- Wisdom in raising kids.
We tend to think we are the exception to the rule on so many levels, so wisdom gets thrown in the back seat like an empty McDonalds bag. I don’t need the experience of a failure to help me grow. If it does, so be it. But, I’m not going to ignore the wisdom of those older than me just because I’m “forging my own path”. I get to be a voice of wisdom in this Dad Bod and I’m loving it. Who wants some of this wisdom? I’m handing it out like Halloween candy!
My Dad Bod represents a life of personal sacrifices. I’ve given up a lot in my attempt to be a servant leader. Sometimes to a fault and sometimes to my own detriment. But, I’m okay with many things I’ve given up for the sake of those around me. To this day, I STILL don’t have my own “dad chair”. Shit, forget the recliner! I don’t even have a chair; not even at the dinner table! I’d love a pickup truck. Not going to happen any time soon. Golf club membership? Nope. Man cave? More like a Man Crevice around my house.
I’m okay with this. I don’t (usually) mind that my money and resources go for things like trips, experiences, and prom dresses. I do take time to think about me. In fact, I just got my hair cut and I did it without thinking about what anybody else wanted my hair to look like! Thank GOD for friends who make me do this! But, I still feel good at the end of the day with the guy I am and the sacrifices I’ve made for other people.
My Dad Bod represents a man who knows how to please a woman. If you’re a younger reader, this may scar you a bit with the visual. Frankly, I don’t care. Skip along, young, inexperienced reader! But, this aging, pudgy body represents someone who knows his way around a vagina. It knows erogenous zones, foreplay techniques and the Art of the Cuddle. It knows how to speak to a woman that is pleasurable for her and not degrading or shameful.
The Dad Bod knows the rhythms of love-making. How to read a woman’s face to determine when to go faster or slower or when to change up the position. It isn’t focused so much on performance as it is connectedness. It may not have the stamina of a younger body, but it maximizes what it has so that a woman experiences the fullness of being loved and connected to a man while experiencing the release of climax for both parties. Mr. Richard may have actually shrunk a bit over the years. He may not be quite the rod he used to be. Diversifying your portfolio in those moments is your friend.
The Dad Bod tells a story. If you’re willing to get to know a man like this, you’re going to discover a treasure trove of adventures, wisdom and maybe even some life and love techniques that will change you and your own experiences.
I’ll keep my Dad Bod and hold it close. I’ll protect it, keep working on it, but I’ll also celebrate it and what it represents.
I don’t give a shit if I don’t look like a Hemsworth brother.
I’ll run a couple of half marathons throughout the year to maintain my health and not get out of control. But I’ll also keep loving on bacon and eating a large Jethro Bodin bowl of Lucky Charms at midnight.
Maybe this glimpse into my personal Dad Bod Story will inspire you. Inspiration to cut yourself some slack and enjoy the aging process a little more. Inspiration to appreciate the Dad Bod that perhaps lives under your roof. He’s a good dude.
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Previously Published on Medium
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