Shirtless Runner
A bellwether for my mental and emotional state
I see him running. He’s got his shirt off. Great body. Seems confident and happy. I try not to make eye contact. I stare at the ground and pretend not to notice.
A jolt of electricity shoots through my chest. My breathing becomes shallow. And my chest feels tight.
Damn it. What’s wrong with me?
He’s tall, confident, and good-looking. He’s definitely straight. Looks like a natural athlete. Doesn’t have much body hair. He seems thoughtful and ambitious.
Why is this guy so attractive to me?
I’m not entirely sure, but it feels like he’s got something I don’t have.
Suddenly I shrink and all my inadequacies wash over me. I wish I were taller; I’m not always the most confident; I don’t think I’m that attractive; I’m not coordinated enough for sports; I’ve got more chest hair than I’d like; I’m not financially successful. My eyes dart away as I fall down the rabbit hole.
As he runs by I get stung by a little sadness. But I also feel drawn to him.
I don’t want to feel this way.
My mind wanders as I try to crawl out of the hole. That that guy isn’t too different from me. He probably doesn’t feel confident all the time. I’m sure there are things that he’d like to change about himself if he could – things that he’s also insecure about.
I remind myself not to compare. There are other things I’m good at…I think.
I start to feel a little better as my eyes return to the ground.
As I continue walking, my mind takes me back to other times I’ve felt this way. This isn’t a singular experience. And it doesn’t always play out like this.
Sometimes when I’m feeling more confident and collected, I just see him as a regular guy, an attractive guy, but one that I’m not really drawn to in the same way. On the flip side when I’m feeling sad, a little lost, with no self-esteem — perhaps more often than I’d like to admit — that’s when the shirtless running man is the most appealing.
But I’m attracted to guys, so I must be gay, right?
I tell my mind to come up with other possibilities. You’ve had crushes on girls before. Maybe you’re bisexual?
Perhaps. I hate labels.
But why does my emotional state seem to influence who I’m attracted to? The more sad I feel, the more gay I feel. The opposite is true too. The more confident and grounded I feel, the less interested I am in other men.
I trip on a rock and my mind snaps back to reality. Maybe I’m reading into this too much.
But my mind won’t leave this thought alone. Why am I feeling sad in the first place? Maybe my attraction to men is less about physical intimacy and more about something I yearn for in myself. Maybe the shirtless runner is a bellwether, one that reflects my emotional state and lets me know perhaps something else is amiss.
Am I pleased with the direction of my life? Am I happy with who I’m becoming? Do I feel confident? Or am I projecting my insecurities onto someone else?
It’s as if my attractions seem to be informed by how I answer these questions. There seems to be a connection here; it doesn’t always change how I feel, but I know it’s there.
I try not to take things at face value. You know what, he is an attractive guy, I decide. But, I’m not so bad myself.
I keep walking and the ground becomes less interesting. I take a deep breath and my chest uncoils a bit. That’s right, I’m not so bad.
I keep walking and don’t look back.