Bigorexia - the wave of young men damaging their bodies with steriods to gain big muscles - is founded on a misconception. If they are a guy who wants to attract gals, here's the thing. I say this as a straight biological female. Women, beyond a sense of averageness, don't care what their man looks like. They don't. Once a guy is somewhat average other factors take over. They are looking for a great partner who would make a great father. It's biologically hardwired. Women don't chose mates based on looks. By all means, be healthy, do a sport or whatever makes you feel good... but a lot of women actually don't like big muscles in real life. That's what's real.
The sexist thing about that man is that he is his own man. He's confident in who he is. That kind of ownership of masculine and feminine traits is hot. Very, very hot.
"Man," in terms of gender, denotes being born with a potential to father children -yet there are as many ways to express how you are a man as there are men in the world. We are all born with fairly blank brains as infants, and thus we need gender-specific role models for healthy development, yet these role models are only a canvas, a starting point, how we create ourselves after that is up to us.
We are all born to protect and nurture, to show empathy and grit, yet if I had to speak of masculinity vs femininity, it would be that the recipe is different though the ingredients are the same. That said, the "mama bear mode" is as formidable as any man or more, because this is nature's fail-safe, the backstop, what comes to the fore in a woman if she senses no reliable male protector.
A man who puts his kids first, before you and everyone else, is worth your time. For if his love is strong there, it bodes well for his capacity for love in all respects.
The sexiest thing about the man was his determination to be a good father. Empathy, nurture, caring... that's where the good stuff is.
There are infinity ways to be a man, as there are infinity ways to be a woman, for all personality traits exist in both. Yet this man had both empathy and a very masculine form of strength. He was divine. I'm not sure how else to say it. It was easy to fall in love and there was no reverse gear.
He was all man, so macho and so full of empathy. It is the most sexy combination, the mark of a true alpha.
His accent was such a playful tune, as if he were the star of his own movie. I could have sat there all day simply to listen and smile.
Some folks wear a smile, this guy was the smile. Everything about him was a soft and understated joy as he greeted each person. I went to there for the coffee, but I got so much more. Me and all those other people were the patients in his surgery as he asked us about our day, our lives and welcomed the emotions that tiptoed out. I wondered how many went on to be better friends, better bosses, better parents for his care, a spreading out of goodness from just one man. That barista, he was the safest person around and I never thanked him for all that he gave.
I'm not sure Mark ever said, "Yes," to anything, it was always a "maybe" with a cheeky grin. Yet he always came through... it was always a warm possibility, something loving, inviting. He was the kind of guy that wouldn't take an order but never needed to; whatever he was supposed to do, he did it. He told bad jokes and danced with moves humanity hasn't had the pleasure of seeing for some time - and in my embarrassment I'd never loved him more. He was the kind of guy to ask me to guess which hand the ring was in, hiding his nerves behind an angel's bluff.
I have never seen Chester ruffled, and today is no exception. His voice has a husky drawl and every step he takes is in slow motion compared to almost anyone else I know. His idea of hurrying is to bend his head downward a little as he saunters, the pace of his footfalls not changing one iota. That's just the way the man is, born calm, can't change him, wouldn't want to.
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