Q&A Portion

Last night I got a text-in question: “Do you know the feeling that you’re wishing you could be like other hot guys—like models or ballet dancers—or that you’re wishing you could date them? How do I deal with these feelings?” (Guys, yes the question-sender is quite young, so sheath your bitch-claws, okay?)

Since I knew my answer would be too long for a text message, I just decided to answer it here. Let’s break it down into several chunks.

Do you know the feeling that you’re wishing you could be like other hot guys—like models or ballet dancers?

Yes, I do know the feeling. I used to wish I were like a Hollywood star: as testosterone-oozing as Erik Estrada in C.H.I.P.S, as romantically tortured as the sole surviving mere-man Patrick Duffy in Man From Atlantis, as dashing as Pierce Brosnan in Remington Steele, as witty as Bruce Willis in Moonlighting, as this, as that.

Nowadays one can change oneself so that one can look like his idols. Of course, the amount of change should fall within the range of the possible. For example, a gorgeous, perfectly symmetrical face is usually a gift of Mother Nature and your parents’ genes; Belo, Ellen, Calayan and their ilk can only do so much renovation. But a hot, trim body is something that most people can achieve, given time and effort of course. If you want a ballet dancer’s body, then take up ballet—provided that you are still young enough to take it. That’s one art form that’s cruel to the aged.

However these changes are at best temporary in their physicality (age will always undo the body). The more crucial change is also the hardest, because it doesn’t involve changing one’s features. Rather it is changing one’s mind-set and attitude towards one’s self image. When you learn to love yourself, then whatever changes small or big that you do to your appearance are done out of self-love and not self-loath.

I admit that once in a while I still sigh inwards and long to look like a hot male model who can appear wearing only the skimpiest underwear in a huge billboard. Then I tell myself: “Joel, get real.”

Do you know the feeling that you’re wishing you could date hot guys—like models or ballet dancers?

Again, yes. Every time I go to Bed or the bathhouse, or when I’m in a party full of gay people, part of me always wishes that I’m not in the middle of the Bell Curve of Beauty.

Because sometimes I still catch myself wishing I could snag a gorgeous prince who will sweep me off my feet (preferably in a Ferrari or a Jag, I’m not too choosy) and give me that fairly tale happily ever after. But then that wishful thinking happens for approximately 0.5 seconds (a lot shorter that it took for me to write the previous sentence), then my brain kicks in and tells me: “Joel, get real.”

But you can always try and ask a Prince Charming out on a date. Who knows, he just might say yes. But it’s best if you’re immune to rejection before going up to them. And not all princes end up charming; some turn out to be toads underneath it all.

How do I deal with these feelings?

Okay, here’s the shortcut version. Repeat after me: Get real.

Here’s the idea behind that. There’s a prayer that goes, “Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Well, I’m still working on the wisdom part.

I suggest you start working on it too.