Fellas, That “Love Yourself” Shit Is For You Too

It’s Memorial Day! Time to indulge in some meaty animal carcasses, potato salad (so long as the preparer is officially ordained), spirited fellowship (I’m not interested in small talk, just prepare to get whooped in Spades/Horseshoes/Dominoes), and dranks.

Aside from the Super Bowl (or The NBA Finals, or any other masculine major sporting event), summer is the most joyous time to be a dude. Ladies are wearing sundresses, bikinis, and not much of anything else. The weather is gorgeous. (Global warming is melting my ass though.) And grilling season is here. (Don’t bring that wack shit ’round here if you ain’t got skills. Seriously, not every testicle having human being can grill. Stop burning meat, slapping Sweet Baby Ray’s on it and calling it barbecue. Nah, bruh.)

But now that warmer climate is upon us and fun times are in full bloom, another annoying trend has reared its ugly head. Everyone is trying to get their “summer body.” From social media posts (telling people you’re about to be stuntin’ won’t help you reveal your abs), to crowded gyms (yo’ ass ain’t been there since January, the last time you were supposed to transform yourself) errbody out here trying to get their “beach body.”

Never mind that we’re two days removed from June (you had at least six months bruh, rushing now ain’t gon’ get it no faster), people still starving themselves and aimlessly cycling through ineffective exercises. And for what? To look good naked? To fit into some old shit you wore in high school?

To make matters worse, while females are on the decline with indulging in this fruitless habit, dudes are Jonesing bad to look like an Abercrombie model. Thanks to campaigns and bloggers (shout out to Gabi Fresh) celebrating curves, and loving oneself, women are giving fewer fucks about chasing the antiquated, unrealistic, superficial definition of beauty. Rolls, stretch marks, saggy tits, it doesn’t matter. These marvelous queens are out here living and enjoying themselves despite whatever you may think. It’s a beautiful thing. (Y’all look good too. Ladies, if this isn’t you you better get in on this.)

Meanwhile, I’m witnessing far too many testosterone-driven, meat-sacks out here chasing the same tiresome bullshit we’ve been prone to following for years. Dudes are out here trying to emulate Terry Crews, Zach Efron, or Channing Tatum. Here’s a news flash fellas: STOP THAT SHIT!!! Channing Tatum doesn’t even look like Channing Tatum half the time. (He’s an actor gotdammit. He’s paid to look good. You’re an accountant. You’re paid to do numbers. DO NUMBERS!!!)

Just last week, after a few games of pickup basketball (I hoop a lot, ball is life) one of my homeboys showed me an Instagram photo of some shirtless negro he was trying to look like by his birthday. Pause. You screenshot another dude and carry it around with you as motivation? NOPE! Not even remotely okay.

I get it. Everyone wants to be “healthier” and would care to avoid being the comedic muse of fat jokes. I hear fat jokes all the time. (I also clap back with the quickness. If you come for me, I will ruin you. Can’t nobody save your feelings.) I’ve put on some weight and had to buy some bigger Levi’s. So fucking what.

Sure, I’d like to be leaner so I can do shit like dunk on unsuspecting opponents, and dust fools who wanna test me in flag football. But I legitimately don’t give a damn about my belly. I don’t. I still walk outside with my shirt off occasionally. (It’s hot gotdammit.) When I take my son to the pool, my shirt is off. (If you’re over the age of 5 and you’re wearing a shirt to the pool, STOP.) If you’re looking at me, cool. If not that’s cool too, no fucks are given either way. Neither should you! (Keep your fucks to your self. Be stingy with those fuckers.)

Being healthy should be a lifestyle, not some fad diet Dr. Oz concocted. You should be practicing daily habits that help you achieve the results that you want to see for a lifetime, not just a season. (After 21 days what’s next? You gon’ cut off a limb to lose the next 30 pounds? Then get fat again when the temperature drops? That’s fucking stupid!)

The bottom line is we’re too grown to let other people’s expectations dictate our happiness. That includes how we look. And it includes you too fellas.

So have some Crown and Vernor’s (what up doe?!), eat some gotdamn wings, laugh as much as possible, and don’t get caught reneging on the Spades table. Your summer body is already here because summer is already here. A wise man once told me, “When you’re ready to go to the gym, it’ll still be there.” Enjoy yo’self.

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