How We Got To The Two Fs

If you’ve read my last post, I outlined my manifesto if you will, my formula for tapping into your own potential and frequency for attaining your happiest and healthiest evolution of yourself. The Two Fs (food and fucking), feed the fire, strip away the inessentials and help one get to the core of who they are by assessing and owning one’s sexual prowess and preference while using the raw and abundant power of food to feed and nourish themselves. This formula is based on observation, research, study, regular practice and implementation. However, in this post, I wanted to cover the origins of this algorhythm, my own narrative, my own life, my personal journey.

At the very beginning of it all was my own struggle with food and nutrition. Growing up, I was the chubby kid, cute face, thick waist and with that came a slew of names and teasing. I would play basketball and always get called “Baby Barkley” which was reserved for the roundest ball player. I could always count on a comment about my weight, whether it was first gear being my only gear when running or that I had to wear a bra because my growing breasts. I was never attractive as a result of it and my natural and primary source of comfort was.......you guessed it....food.

My diet consisted of McDonalds, a Big Mac meal, every Friday and Saturday from ages 9 to 12. It then evolved to a BLT sandwich from Henry’s (now called Sprouts) every Wednesday and Saturday. This went all the way to my freshman year of high school. Mom would be at bingo on those nights leaving the boys, my dad and I, to fend for ourselves. In between that were sprinkles of taco shop staples: carne asada fries, California burritos, quesadillas. Let’s not forget 7up cake, pancakes, donuts, cookies, pastries from our local bakery, pizza, Hostess cupcakes, twinkies and all washed down with a coke every night. That’s right, EVERY night. Bingo nights were also fun because it meant an apple fritter or donut would be brought home. Minimum days at school meant lunch at a Chinese buffet or some other restaurant around the city where I could indulge. Also notable was my ability to eat large quantities of food and think of it as a badge of honor. So on top of the lovely selection of crap also came the desire to eat lots of it.

This led me to weigh 160 pounds in sixth grade and with it came a 34 inch waist, migraine headaches, lethargy, laziness, lack of stamina, decreased athletic ability (which my dad and my coaches would constantly remind me of), low self esteem and a narrative that I am to this day still working to diffuse: “I’m not good enough, I’m not attractive enough and the only way I will be is if I have a body that everyone loves.” It drove me to obsession. I would always ask how I looked in something, I began manic research on how to lose weight, I became concerned with pounds on the scale, counting calories but worst of all, the word and opinion of others. I could remember nights crying myself to sleep, reciting promises to leave bad food alone. I wondered if I would ever know what it felt like to have a decent body, to like what I see in the mirror, to run fast, to attract a pretty girl; I wondered if I would ever be wanted, desired, worthy.

Fast forward to high school. I was playing three sports a year, this little thing called puberty kicked in and with a diet, albeit not great but influenced by many a body building article and the desire for a six pack, I leaned out dramatically. My body became what I was known for, and I had what most wanted: a lean, athletic physique. Vegetable and turkey sandwiches with hummus, brown rice, fruit, eggs, chicken breast and veggies with the side of Jack in the Box, taco shop, cheesecake and Dennys became the new way of life. I had a metabolism that wouldn’t quit and a reputation. With that reputation grew a new narrative, which was that in order to matter, I had to look the part of someone that mattered. That meant maintaining this physique all the time. That narrative stuck with me through graduation and this reputation followed me into college.

With that reputation, the pressure to remain perfect began to mount, and with that also came territory that I never experienced before......really being attractive to others. Temptation and opportunity were abound and it was nirvana to see a new, attractive face or voluptuous, developing body every other day. I instantly knew that having this reputation and image put me in prime position to cash in and indulge my newfound desire for women. Throw in Greek life, travel and events and my outgoing and passionate disposition, I had a cocktail for pleasure and play that I never had. But I also had NO DESIRE to practice monogamy or “settle down”. That was what all girls wanted right? Especially after sex. That now meant you are exclusive or you have to now dive deeper and commit. So to get sex, I have to be in a committed relationship. There has GOT to be another way.....?

How the hell could I enjoy everything about my aesthetic, enjoy all the hoo ha thrown my way and not commit or be tied down? I decided I would simply get involved, say all the right things, hit it, be not such an ass at first, then become too busy or consumed with studies or an existential crisis, disappear and move on to the next one. It meant all the pleasure I could want; no commitment, a few blow ups, misunderstandings, hurt feelings and a few rumors but a single life where I got everything I wanted, without the shit I didn’t. Problem solved. I became the playboy. I fed into perfecting the temple and to smashing and passing like a drug. I began to feel like everything was about me. I didn’t intend to wreck the feelings of these women, but it was more important to capitalize on attention and pleasure I never had. It also felt really good to be wanted, desired, sexy, coveted. I was reckless, had fun, looked like a sculpture most of the time and wound up in beds, on couches, secluded corners and many a backseat. Consequently, there was a substantial price to pay.

Food became about good and bad, dogma and rules, restriction and overindulgence; more often than not it was the enemy than the ally and became a barometer of my self worth. No balance, no equanimity, no flexibility, just overdose on the good stuff, grow an irresistible urge for the bad stuff, lose control, act on impulse, shame oneself, designate a cut or diet season, rinse and repeat. It led to fluctuations in weight, a weakened pysche, a gross misunderstanding of food and its purpose, a heightened sense of pressure, demoralization and a very palpable sense of self esteem dictated by an Adonis physique. Mood swings, hormonal imbalances, depression, self judgement, ego, eroded consistence and waning resolve became the new norm. But at least the ladies kept coming.....

And they did, and the as long as I could nab the next one, I was still somewhat worthy. But with each “misunderstanding”, with each broken heart, with each lie, with each pussy-footing move to not commit, I began to realize that I only became one thing: like every other guy. I was a liar, I was a fuck boy, a player in a negative sense of the word. I was an ego maniac who became defined by the two things that mattered least and in the process, hurt some damn good women in the process. I would be remiss if I said that seeing them move on or happy without me did not hurt. It made me re-evaluate myself and issue an apology to the ones that would hear me. But it led to a serious inner monologue in my now mid twenties.

I began to question if I even believed in monogamy; why is it the pre-emanate love style? Is there something else? How can I be honest about this without hurting anyone? Does everyone subscribe to it? How much pussy am I gonna lose as a result? What else is there to sexual exploration? How are threesomes, orgies, sex parties possible? Does everyone have to get married? Is it even possible to be satisfied with one person for the rest of your life? These were many of the questions that I asked myself. And it was these questions that led me to begin telling the truth about myself (slowly) to women I would date. But I began to find and surround myself around like minded individuals and curious explorers. I found that possibilities to learn about all other dynamics, feelings and situations began to come forward. I began to feel less ashamed of my disposition, found validation for myself, realized that I’m not a monster; it felt like I wasn’t alone and that I didn’t have to be ashamed of asking for something different. I began to realize that the fun I sought was in honesty about who I am. I began to see that I possessed a dynamic, passionate and sometimes insatiable sexual disposition which I felt emanated in my walk, my speech, my look. I realized this was a very large part of my identity, one that I no longer wanted to compromise or sequester to fit in or mislead. During this time, I also began to look at food consumption in a completely different light.

I became a vegan, stuck with it for six years, threw myself into cooking, did research on the different types of diets, tried them all, experienced confusion, frustration, stress, pressure to be perfect and a prevailing attitude that food, now gluten, most animal products and dairy were also bad. All of this meant ultimately, more stress. But with all of this endeavor for “perfection”, all of this effort to be ethical, all of this strife to maintain, I asked myself “how is any of this healthy?” Why am I putting my body through so much and not trusting my knowledge, research and own intuition. Why is food the enemy? What would happen if I actually indulged and didn’t judge myself? Why don’t I stop depriving my growing and working body of what it needs? Veganism taught me to trust and throw myself into plants as my primary source of fuel, but what about those times when my body asked for a piece of fish, some ghee on top of my porridge, collagen to supplement my smoothie game; yeah sugar is bad, but nothing seemed wrong with a raw vegetable juice, a date with my dark chocolate, a nice apple in the middle of the day or a frozen banana ice cream. Paleo and keto are great to cut carbs, but quinoa, chickpeas, wild rice and teff are hardly bad for you. Pasta and bread are not great in large quantities, but sometimes you just want avocado toast with a good sourdough, or an authentic pasta with pesto with good company. What I began to realize was that food was only therapeutic when taken in the right quantities and those quantities were dictated by me. Food was only benevolent when I allowed myself to enjoy it. Balance was my best approach to what to eat and when. Subscribing to one method of eating meant missing out on food that wasn’t harmful to me and too away from always having to choose food. Food was my ally when I trusted in it. Food also allowed me to revamp and enhance my own genetic code. I embraced a way that featured mostly plants with sprinkles of wild fish, pasture raised eggs, scant amounts of dairy and traces of pasture raised turkey or chicken. I began to see what my true abilities from an athletic standpoint. My skin, mood, sleep, desire and feelings were enhanced. Recovering from hard training became better, my hair, which I began to lose, stopped thinning and falling out. I began to see what food is, a gift from this planet, meant to nourish us, fuel us and keep our human spirit and our metabolic engine ablaze. And I knew that I had my own answers, through experimentation, journaling, mental notes, I found my own way. But with a revving metabolism and now a sexual identity, I began to find much more.

Understanding and gaining a foothold on both have allowed me to unearth my own potential and ask questions about who I really am. Owning my sexual prowess and understanding the power and blessing of food has served as a catalyst for becoming my best and most authentic self. I want to kick ass and remain forever young. These two tools have shown me that to live is practice self love, to let your essence radiate, to be true to yourself, to tell your story, own your platform and redefine what it means to “do you”. I have entered a stratosphere where I’m surrounded by the people I want in my life and have embraced my spirituality (something that didn’t exist in my mind before). I endeavor to live in a holistic and altruistic way. I aim to empower and embolden my brothers and my sisters, release ego, do good not harm and establish my identity. I ultimately learned to fill myself with love and to embrace my struggles (some of which have been mentioned and I still work through) as my journey and not my ending. I share love through the food that I create, my words, my voice, my touch and my lifting of others. I got here because I embraced self love through two fundamental and rewarding things: the food we feed ourselves and the honest and outright expression of our sexuality and preference.