Lankiness

The other day I was approached by a forthright stranger – a short, rotund woman – who claimed that from a distance I looked female. She soon recanted, & half-jokingly referred to me as a stick figure. Her means of striking up conversation was a bit abrasive.

I have the benefit (or hindrance) of a high metabolism. Frequently, I eat, yet my weight seldom fluctuates; in fact, my weight hasn’t fallen below, nor has it risen above, a range of 130-135 pounds for over a decade. At times people are taken aback when I reveal my weight. Jocundly, people will tell me to eat a sandwich, as if to say I avoid meals. One guy, upon seeing my fingers, stated that I have small bones. Comparably, yes. His hands were fuckin’ massive.

When in public, I refrain from wearing shorts. When in public, I refrain from wearing pants that might highlight the twigginess of my legs. As a result, loose-fitting pants fill my closet.

Sometimes I’ll read in articles instances of body-shaming, wherein obese individuals are the sole recipients of ridicule. However, in a rural setting, where the majority of men are plus-sized, an underweight person such as myself is viewed as deficient. Manliness, to them,  is defined by a protruding gut & hirsute arms.

I’m convinced if I were female, accusatory rumours would arise & suggest an eating disorder (since I frequently eat).





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Photographer/Model: Civa