My Body Positive: Tommy C.
The hardest thing about my body positivity journey, was admitting and accepting that I hadn’t actually started it. About three hours before writing this, I went to the gym to improve my enemy: my body.
“Body positivity” is terminology that is relatively new to me. It is a phrase that means well but doesn’t quite slice through the barbed-wire mesh of insecurity I’ve developed since gaining weight. That weight, to me, shows up in the form of love handles, which I loathe. Having added weight is not an issue. People have actually complimented me on my weight gain. “You were so gaunt before,” they’ve said. I look “manly” to them now. What I see, however, is a man who can no longer wear what he wants and a man who can’t turn heads on the street the way he used to when he was in his twenties. These are the shallow parts of my insecurities. Those insecurities sometimes translate into darker thoughts of self-doubt and self-hate. Those dark thoughts always end up at the same place: No one will love me if I look like this. Let me explain…
I’m an actor. Therefore, part of my relationship with my body is based on how others will receive it. Much of what I do is about sharing myself with an audience and I believe audiences still want to see fantasy when it comes to the naked body. I’ve seen it repeatedly, via Instagram or in-person commentary: people gush over people who live in the gym. My view of my body usually comes from my assumptions of what others, namely those in charge of my career, will think about it. Casting agents hire the pretty, muscular men over the average bodied Joe, like myself.
In 2014 the late Nelsean Ellis told me that when he started Trueblood, he was about 185lbs. “I’m about 165lbs now. And when I went into my agent’s office, they were like, ‘oh wow, you’re looking really good!’ I thought I looked good before I lost the weight. Can you believe it? I look anorexic to myself and they love it,” he said to me. Perception.
Being skinny was how I used to identify myself. Funny enough, I didn’t associate my thinness with conventional beauty standards initially. But as a performer who learned to use his body as an instrument, I soon began to understand how my body worked and moved. Dancing taught me the mechanics of my body. It kept me athletic and toned. Maybe all I need is a few nights out at the club, or in a dance studio, coupled with a five-day gym routine. Then maybe I can get back the body I miss. Or maybe I can get out of my head and go look in the mirror I’ve been avoiding and say to myself, “You ain’t bad to look at, Tommy. In fact, you’re quite lovely with or without handles.”
Leave a Comments