In the past, whenever I’ve been in the presence of other unclothed men at the gym changing room or some such, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be trying to sneak a quick peek at their family jewels – and especially their main event. This wasn’t from any kind of sexual interest; my only aim was to make a quick assessment of whether it was (hopefully) smaller; comfortingly similar sized; or threateningly large, when I looked quickly away with a distinct feeling of inadequacy.
I can see now that that my covert checking out could only result in one of two equally false conclusions – that I’m either more, or less, capable as a lover and as a man. For someone with average equipment like me, there will always be some men who are larger, and some smaller. But the size of any man’s flaccid member gives no indication at all of the size when aroused. And even if it did, says absolutely nothing about his, or my, relative attractiveness or sex appeal – or about our skills and capacity in the bedroom. This false standard has to be the least significant way to measure any man’s sexual allure or potency– as I’ve had confirmed to me by numerous women.
So why, until recently, have I kept looking?
Here’s the thing–I’ve also realised that for most of my life I’ve been instinctively comparing myself with other men in all kinds of other ways as well. Such as, the status/’importance’ of my work; the kind of car I drive; how tall I am; my relative smarts or ability to use language (these two often get confused!). As it happens, I was lucky enough to grow up in the hippy era when having more money or possession counted negatively in my peer group, so I developed a sense of pride in how frugal I was and a habit of looking down on men with a more consumerist lifestyle and the finances to fund it.
A lot of this has stuck with me – I still feel a disproportionate amount of pride in how small my current car is and a glow of self-righteousness as I cycle past a row of four-by-fours stuck in rush-hour traffic jams! There may be some small justification for this, in the sense that a consumerist lifestyle may cause more damage to the environment. But I’ve an uneasy feeling that my tendency to environmental pride is not rooted in the reality of my actual impact on the planet but is in fact a kind of compensation for some deep insecurity about not being ‘successful’ enough.
One thing is certain: any man who judges his worth based on comparisons with others will always be vulnerable to two damaging, and misplaced, emotions – arrogance and/or inferiority. To be free of these we must each find value inside ourselves and that’s why I’m focusing now on appreciating myself; following my own truths and values without caring much what other men may be thinking or doing. This is part of the reason that lately I also avoid looking in a mirror if I can, other than for a quick check that I don’t have food or anything worse stuck to my face, and turn off ‘self-view in zoom meetings. Because in reacting to my own appearance I found myself becoming distracted by thoughts about whether I was more, or less, appealing than other men. But ironically, I think the very fact I was worrying about how I looked made me basically unattractive – along with the ego-centred anxiety and defensiveness that goes along with that kind
Now, most of the time, I live in the moment, at ease with who I am – knowing I am ‘unique’ but not ‘special’, and that at my core I’m ‘good enough’. This way I have a smile on my face more often, at least partly because I don’t care so much any more whether anyone else likes it or not.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock
