Lured By Muscle – Gay Bodybuilders Are Not What They Appear To Be

As a young gay male, there was nothing more desirable to me than to be in a relationship with a man that was really muscular. Looks didn’t matter so much, the major requirements being incredibly smooth muscle paired nicely with ripped six pack abs, the stuff of Muscle & Fitness magazine covers. Of course since you want to attract that kind of man, looking somewhat similar would definitely be to my advantage. And so my original intention in the pursuit of bodybuilding (before realizing the health benefits) was to look like what I was seeing in magazines lining store shelves… the best free porn ever invented for those counting the days before they would reach their 18th birthday. Eventually, through tons of hard work, dedication and previously failed attempts at online dating, you meet your first bodybuilder and think it’s going to be heaven on earth… and it totally sucks. Your expectations hit rock bottom and rather than associate the experience with bodybuilding, you think it must be the person, and you continue trying. Well I’m 51 now and consider myself to be in a very happy and fulfilling relationship with my best friend, and now looking back I can identify a pretty interesting pattern…. bodybuilders kinda suck.

Mike Robert - The Geek With Muscles
So much work to get to this place of being huge, but turns out it’s nice to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there.

Before I go any further, let me just say I’m still into bodybuilding and being inside a gym continues to be a part of my life as it has been for almost 30 years now. The experience has changed somewhat though, and I have to honestly say that I do it mostly for me and as I’ve already alluded to, it hasn’t always been that way. Many people from both sexes, orientations and identities, are guilty of trying to look a certain way for the purposes of attracting a mate. This kind of behavior is not unique to humans, and can be seen all over the animal kingdom. Looking good, healthy and strong, is anthropologically a huge button pusher for those seeking to pass on their genetic material, and bodybuilders often look like they’re on their A game when it comes to this. Unfortunately what’s on the surface is literally only skin deep and more often than not, bodybuilders, especially the gay ones, are often hiding a plethora of insecurities and unhealthy habits directly proportional to the amount of mass they carry around. To say they’re high maintenance is a total understatement.

I will never forget meeting my dream fantasy man on a gay cruise once… he had to be at least 6’4″, 250+ lbs of solid hairless ripped muscle, complete with a shaved head and a mean look on his face. I met him on the dance floor and it’s a little known fact that huge muscle guys often like little muscle guys… so at 5’5″ and 185 pounds I was good to go and all I needed was a handle to become his carry-on baggage for the evening. He was French and didn’t speak a word of English, however as gay men, we understand fluent dog and words aren’t necessary. I soon discovered reproductively he totally matched his stature, and could shame your favorite ungulate. Something weird happened that night though, because what I thought was going to be an incredible time was in fact, largely mechanical and lacked any kind of passion. How could this happen? How could Mr. Right… I mean Monsieur le Droit, be so wrong? I was determined to find answers and so I set out on a five year mission to seek out even more bodybuilders and boldly go where every bottom had gone before… but with a clear mind for observational purposes.

“…the minute I heard “Can you put the peanut oil dressing on the side?” I knew there wouldn’t be a second date.”

My findings? Well I’ve discovered that many body builders rely entirely on their looks and physique, and forget the subtle nuisances that make any sexual experience or relationship wonderful and engaging. They often frame their perspective in such a way that you are incredibly fortunate to experience muscles so huge and as such, what more could you possibly ask for? Gay bodybuilders are so often focused on physical aspects of themselves, they forget about the other person and what their…. dare I say, feelings are. Eventually this becomes super annoying, especially when you meet one that looks like they fell out of a magazine and are so concerned about their dietary requirements, that watching them order a meal at a restaurant is like a nightmarish crash course in nutrition with an emphasis on carbohydrates. Been there, done that and the minute I heard “can you put the peanut oil dressing on the side…” I knew there wouldn’t be a second date. Sometimes I wonder if his jaw is still so perfectly square? Did he move to West Hollywood where that kind of thing is perfectly legal and encouraged? Sorry, I digress.

The other thing about gay bodybuilders is their health. Looks can be incredibly deceiving and social media platforms like Instagram only illustrate this point… people are getting more and more massive, yet actually living shorter lives in the process. I am proud to say I’ve never injected any kind of steroid into my body, and unfortunately that’s pretty common in a sub-culture that has also seen its share of substance abuse. In fact, a study at Baylor college indicated that among bodybuilders that started out young, the average age of death was 47 years old for the 597 men studied. If you managed to make it past 50, the numbers started to normalize. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that massive quantities of muscle require massive amounts of blood to keep it alive… and a good heart to pump it. Most bodybuilders avoid cardio exercise like the plague since it also burns lean muscle, and when combined with an alphabet of synthetic metabolic substances… look out. The awareness of this kind of health issue becomes amplified when you’re involved in social media circles focused on bodybuilding. The posts regarding the sudden and unexpected death of a fellow body builder often from a heart attack, are surprisingly frequent when so many look so healthy.

Of course if you try hard enough, you WILL eventually find that bodybuilder that is well balanced, not conceded, and looking to live a healthy lifestyle both physically and mentally. However, I strongly believe those kinds of persons are much fewer in numbers in the population of gay men than one might imagine. And while all these men are busy searching for an archetype that doesn’t really exist, they pass up potentially wonderful relationships and experiences with people that aren’t as muscular or maybe lack a six pack. These people look at themselves objectively, and are genuinely interested and concerned about how they treat and interact with others. In other words there’s an untapped market… go seek it out and find yourself a good man. He may not have the body of your fantasies, but his heart will be real enough. Just remember, there’s guys you f—, and there’s guys you marry.

Why Don’t Say Gay Terrifies Me

It’s hard to believe by looking at this photo of me in the 10th grade, how tormented I was on the inside.

Growing up as a gay kid in school was probably one of the scariest experiences of my life. Going far back as elementary school, I knew something was very different about me compared to other kids, and I did everything I could to avoid confronting the realty that awaited me. I wasn’t great at sports, I didn’t like girls, I wasn’t even into the same music or cartoons as other children my age were. I couldn’t relate to the rowdy boys that pretended to be soldiers at war, or the ones that talked about He Man – Masters of the Universe… I just wanted to learn about science and watch the Smurfs. I wanted to hang around girls and enjoy the bond they seemed to share with one another, to experience being shameless about being creative and good at sewing. I just wanted to be myself… and I was terrified to do so. I was so frightened to let anyone see the real side of who I was, else run the risk of being bullied and ridiculed. It was bad enough that when it came time to form teams for group sports, I was ALWAYS the last one picked, always the one person in the class to endure the longest session of public humiliation. One by one, as each person was chosen and the available pool of students became smaller and smaller, the unspoken became increasingly obvious… I was not wanted, I was not good enough. With each new sport played, the process was repeated… month after month, year after year. Through a cruel election of my peers, through the visual display of fingers not pointing in my direction… I was not wanted, I was not good enough.

Junior High eventually came around and a new horror was brought into existence, we had to change clothes in front of other boys in the locker room. Suddenly I was immersed in the reality that if my eyes should accidentally look in the wrong direction, I would be called out and even worse, pulled from the closet that had protected me for so long. I found a false sense of safety by changing with other “nerds” that weren’t good at sports and engaging them in conversation. At least we had the appearance of being normal, of just two guys getting ready for physical education class, but even that proved to futile in preventing episodes of outright personal assault. I can remember my friend Raj being picked up while still in his underwear and thrown into a trash can, clearly singled out because of his ethnicity and the color of his skin. On another occasion, still fresh in my memory, we were surrounded by a group of at least 20 while we sat with our backs against the wall next to the outdoor eating area. There was no where to run while a tall male student stood over us, thrusting his hips back and forth while repeatedly telling Raj, “go ahead, suck my dick… go ahead, I know you want to.” His vulgar actions provided a show for the other students, and instead of anyone running to our aide, we were laughed at and mocked… the crowd only dispersing after a teacher noticed the large group huddled around the wall. Indeed, physical education class provided an open arena for bullies to do their thing, largely unsupervised.

Going into the 10th grade and fastly approaching the darkest years of my life where I no longer had the desire to live, I absolutely refused to experience this kind of repetitive harassment again. In the beginning of the school year I approached my physical education coach, someone the other students nicknamed Mighty Mouse because of his short and muscular stature, and told him I wouldn’t be attending class because I was working on getting a note from my doctor to exempt me from taking the course. I explained that I would be in the library until this could be finalized, and he could find me there if need be. My coach accepted this reasoning at first, and would issue me daily passes to go to the library. My mother went to our family doctor to get the necessary documentation, however the amazing school board of Dade County, Florida, had decided to treat those not wanting to attend physical education class like an adult trying to obtain disability payments. Suddenly there was a process to be followed with all kinds of assessments of my abilities, and what I could and couldn’t do… something that a kid / family without health insurance could not afford. I kept asking for hall passes until one day Mighty Mouse asked me “So what are you going to do when you get married? Is your wife going to give you a hand job or something?” Yes, apparently at Miami Sunset Senior Highschool, it was acceptable to say those kinds of thing to students in the 10th grade and thankfully, I still had some fight left in me. I informed my home room teacher of the situation and she became livid, telling me she would get to the bottom of it. The next time I would see Mighty Mouse he verbally questioned my masculinity by asking “Are you a sissy Robért?” So yeah, being bullied by teachers is also a thing kids experience in school.

There was no where to run while a tall male student stood over us, thrusting his hips back and forth while repeatedly telling Raj, “go ahead, suck my dick… go ahead, I know you want to.

When I reached 11th grade I was tired of fighting. I was tired of fighting the truth of what I was, I was tired of fighting with others telling me how wrong I was. I was tired of going to my friend’s grandmother for some kind of consolation, only to be told “You have a demon inside of you Michael.” I was tired of my Uncle Gene seeing how depressed I was and one day telling me that he’d always love me, no matter what… “as long as you’re not a god damned homosexual.” I was tired of my cousins being so incredibly kind to me, letting my guard down as result, and then randomly blurting out some bullshit like “I just pray for you so much Michael, because I don’t want you to go to hell.” Because nothing says I love you like telling someone they’re going to hell with a smile on their face. I was tired of seeing my entire church youthgroup, a church that I CHOSE to be baptised in at the age of 14 in front of an entire congregation, turn their back on me when a bitter girl I wouldn’t kiss decided to tell everyone I was gay. I was tired of my own brother handing me a loaded gun and telling me to go kill myself in front of him, while his closeted Baptist Minister twin lectured me on morals…raiding my porn collection for his own use when I wasn’t home. I was tired of my sister calling me a faggot because she knew how much I hated it, and my only retalitory response was to call her a fat cow. Upon which she would cry and go running to my mom… and yeah, you guessed it, I’d be the one to get into trouble. I was so tired… I was tired of hate and just wanted nothing more than to die. I couldn’t experience another day of the constant fear and blatant two faced love by relatives in the name of religion.

Writing this was harder than I expected… I realize now there is so much anger left inside me. There is much pain associated with those memories and looking back, I have no clue in the Universe how I made it through. I used to think kids had it easier these days in school… after all, there are shows where being a gay teen is wonderful and accepted. However now there is a new evil out there, an evil that seeks to take back the years of work and progress that we as a community, have made in the fight for equality. There are those in the highest levels of Government that want children to know they’re not normal, and are validating the hate that some of their fellow students feel. A door has been opened that can not easily be shut, a door that once held back the darkness and told people it wasn’t okay to hate others and commit acts of violence against them. Somewhere out there, in the State of Florida, there’s a little skinny Michael experiencing the exact fears, emotions and inner conflicts that I did, and on top of that, now has to deal with someone like Govenor Ron DeSantis making it against the law to address those issues through education. Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” law is sending a deadly message to gay youth, and it needs to be repealed.

My high school counselors saved my life… period. A female counselor whom I’ve tried to remember her name for years, and a social worker named Mike Miller did the work with me to get me functioning again. Together they showed me how to respect and love myself, to be proud of who I am. Had this happened today, chances are I wouldn’t have even made it to the counselors office that day my aunt forced me to go. I wouldn’t have been able to handle the hate coming at me from all sides, including the government itself. I would have taken my life, exactly as I intended to do when I realized I was gay.

It’s not really surprising to see the recent actions of our government, De Santis didn’t want to protect our children during COVID, so why would gay youth be any different? Watching so many high school students marching in yesterday’s pride parade made a huge impact on me… however the darkness of the reality that awaits so many still rings true. I wonder who the next parent will be to suddenly discover that their child, the bright light that carried them through the darkest of times, the person they brought into this world, the person they watched grow into a remarkable human being, the one they loved more than life itself… was gay,

… through their suicide note.

To anyone reading this going through something similar, trust me, it gets better. Don’t let fuckers like DeSantis win. There’s so much life to live, and as hard as it may seem, I got through it and so can you. We need you alive to help continue to the fight… until we don’t have to.

My Life Since The Hot Seat

photo credit – thejoywithin.org

In one month, almost to the day, it will be four years since I traveled to Orlando Florida with my amazing friend Kim, to partake in something we had only learned about the year prior. It had been an interesting journey for the two of us, rapidly growing and learning about “Law Of Attraction”, or how some have come to know it, “The Secret.” We had high hopes and even higher expectations. I was certain I was going to get picked to be in the infamous “Hot Seat” and get my opportunity to speak with Abraham, my only concern being the actual question… because I had none really. Finally the time came when I would notice a strange energy about the room, and an awareness in Abraham’s words… did they have some special meaning encoded within them? So with my question in mind, I raised my hand and was chosen to speak with “infinite intelligence.” This was an amazing experience, one that I will never forget, but did it change my life in anyway?

I have been blessed to have heard some amazing spiritual leaders speak in person, Eckhart Tolle, The Dalai Lama, a number of pastors that seemed totally tapped into some loving force… but seldom do you get to chat with one in person, while a thousand or so people watched. I had fully expected my interaction with Abraham to be life changing, but in what way? Would I suddenly manifest great wealth and a beautiful home? Would I win the lottery? Would I suddenly become enlightened in a way only few have known? Well to answer simply, yes…. and also no. I think my biggest surprise with deep diving into LOA (Law Of Attraction), was that while I was truly manifesting amazing things into my life, they happened in ways that were completely unexpected, and sometimes downright magical. At times it almost felt as though things were manifesting too quickly, and I wanted it to slow down. While at other moments I felt completely stuck, like I must be missing something, like I was almost there.

I got my huge lightbulb moment about LOA about a year after seeing Abraham in person. I had actually stopped listening to them at one point completely, ignoring my great desire to hear the many YouTube videos of their sessions that are available free of charge. It wasn’t that I was turned off or angered by them, on the contrary it was because I truly believed I was learning from them. And perhaps if I was vibrating as “student” and not in the sense of applying this knowledge, maybe that meant I wasn’t vibrating as “ready.” So I said to myself “This isn’t rocket science.” and I went on my merry way of applying what I had learned, instead of just listening to more and more examples of what to do. I actually felt this really moved me into the right direction, until the moment when I kind of felt like I needed more instruction, because obviously I wasn’t doing something just right enough. So I started listening again and that’s when it happened.

I was taking a break from the office on a beautiful sunny day, and found myself walking on a tree lined pathway not far away. The sky was so blue, the air was clean and the heat wasn’t oppressive as is often the case in Miami. I was listening to a track on YouTube and Abraham was talking about using day dreaming as a tool for getting yourself where you needed to be vibrationally. Since I was born a day dreamer, this was an easy task, but there’s something that most people do, including myself, that ruins what they called “A perfectly good day dream.” In addition to not feeling sad during your day dream because you don’t have what you want (because that just emphasizes and vibrates lack), many people also try to figure out how they’re going to accomplish what it is they’re actually dreaming about. And there lies the problem… or as Abraham put it “Why ruin a perfectly good day dream by trying to figure out how you’re going to get there… that just adds clutter and resistance.” And the light bulb suddenly went off. While Law Of Attraction is so much more than just day dreaming about what you desire, perhaps this was the one tool that would help me move to where I needed to be vibrationally. I felt so close as it was… maybe this would bring me past the finish line.

At first, I didn’t notice anything huge manifesting in my life, although there were some small things here and there that seemed to be working for me… after all, I already considered myself to be a very blessed individual. However, it did seem like my perspective had in fact changed somewhat… I just felt really good most of the time, and although I was far from being where I wanted, I was feeling pretty enthusiastic. I seemed to always have this sense that “Everything is always working out for me.” When my partner and I vacationed before the Spring, things really started to change… in the most peculiar of ways. The cruise we had planned was upgraded to a beautiful suite, something we had never experienced, and then because of a leaky pipe the first day, we were offered a %10 percent voucher for a future cruise, which turned into %15 percent when we received it. The entire trip was incredibly memorable, and as the months went by, more and more events began to occur with incredible solutions that followed. My car was on its last leg about to die, but the dealer gave me almost $7,000 for it when I thought it would barely fetch $2,000… engine light on, no A/C, etc. Indeed it seemed like everything was truly going my way… and it didn’t stop there. Unexpected sources of abundance seemed to just flow to me, despite fearing bankruptcy only months earlier.

“Why ruin a perfectly good day dream by trying to figure out how you’re going to get there… that just adds clutter and resistance.”

Abraham Hicks

So here we are, four years after the Hot Seat and five since I started being aware of Law Of Attraction, and my life has totally and completely changed. I’m in a place now in my life where I’m not only incredibly happy, but the sky is truly the limit. I started to love my job again and won three awards, I feel like I’m in the relationship I was always meant to be in, and I’m incredibly excited of what and how the Universe will surprise me with next, because I’m not afraid of the unknown. While at the gym late last year, I received an incredibly strong “impulse” to start my own social media platform about spirituality (think Facebook only with nice people), and that project manifested itself almost “automagically” as we say in the IT world. Digitalsoulspace.org is a reality, and I believe we’re already starting to make a difference in people’s lives, if only because we are here and waiting for them when they need us. This is a very exciting time to be me and I’m loving it, so yeah…. The Hot Seat… it’s a good thing. I’m excited about the future, I no longer fear it, and that in itself is worth the price of admission. 🙂

Click HERE to listen to Mike’s experience with Abraham Hicks

Mike Robert is the science loving owner and creator of the The Geek With Muscles Blog and Podcast, Digital Soulspace, an independent online spiritual community, aquarist, a life long volunteer, social / community activist, body building enthusiast, naturalist, animal lover, conservationist, videographer, former actor and beekeeper, and an IT Professional of over 35 years. When he’s not doing any of the previously mentioned activities, he’s at Michael’s shopping for new ideas and hobbies for which he has absolutely zero time for.