*-Chazeem, wearing a white Calvin Klein underwear with a jean short and Calvin Klein belt along with silver accessories and white socks.*

All men are not created equal, was something I had to learn on my own. This truth would hit me hard and soft, later. As child I was riddled with insecurities, being compared at every turn to others I was a shut in, at sixteen I was a loner, I laid my head down on my pillow, the scorching sun pouring in from the window of my grandmothers house. The cloudless skies were both a blessing and a curse in those summer days, it kept us at a consistent 80 degree weather forecast at all times. While the noises of excitement poured in from outside I just laid there barely touching carpeted floor. I rarely went out in those days cooked up inside and in my head, constantly at war. It was my personal prison, the saddest summer, or so I told myself.

*-Sitting still, look pretty and waiting…*

My twenty third summer was less than eventful, everyone was out partying and socializing, doing as much as they could, just months prior I had a just come from a wonderful and mesmerizing exploration of a new city foreign to me and all I could do was fantasize about going back. I had this lonely feeling permeating throughout my body, and a longing for more than I currently had. The thrilling excitement of “summer” eluded me, again I spent my nights in the cold in doors while the heat was begging me to embrace it, to touch me. I rarely heeded her call. The longing only grew, and so insecurity, the fear. I constantly wished that I was just like them.

*-Applying sunscreen wearing nothing but a black Calvin Klein Jock Strap, light blue denim, and black Calvin Klein belt.*

I weight 115 just three years ago, my body was something I felt the most ashamed of. I was small, twisted and tiny for my age, a man stuck in the body on an adolescent boy who didn’t age. I was annoyed, and jealous, so deeply fearful, why couldn’t I be more like them? it was all I could think at the time, I coveted the bodiees of people who I deemed better than I was. I bought a cooler, it was my first, a small thing that fits 5 drinks comfortably with ice packed in. I bought it before the weekend hit because I was planning to go to the beach that Sunday. I bought a couple of drinks and tossed them in the cooler as I left the store.

My parents often lamented that I was too skinny, too small, I needed to eat more, do something. So I started going to the gym. Self-love is a concept that I thought I’d grasped, I used to be in constant war with myself, I often still am. We often fracture like glass as we look into the mirror. So many different versions of myself that I could be and aren’t, some times I struggle to tell myself I love him. It wasn’t until recently that I had realized that I could never last this way. Self-care is about taking care of yourself, showing yourself appreciation and affection and was otherwise neglected. Yes, but that’s just part of it. It’s also important to prioritize self growth and self improvement in the pursuit of self-love.

I tried my best, I ate slightly better, I went to the gym every night, I bought a weight gainer to help me build muscle and in time. I saw progress. My chest and arms became mor prominent, my back became more defined, but I was still unsatisfied I weighed in at 130. Again the summer quickly approached, I was tired, so viciously of being myself that I’d sought to change that. I’d been working out so surely I’d be enough by now I told myself. Surely I won’t get jealous anymore, I won’t be despised in the mirror, my parents with love me, people will love me and everything will be perfect, I’ll be happy. Why am I still not happy?

The sand really good under my feet, I had got up at 6am to get ready because I knew it’d get crowded later on the day. As I sat my cooler down in the sand I pull a water bottle out of the ice. The only thing about me I’d really changed was my weight. I didn’t think about perhaps changing the way I interacted with social media, I didn’t think about ways to handle my jealousy, I didn’t think about way to improve my self-image, but I did think about all the ways I could look like everyone else did, the perfect ones, the individuals that I had found the placed on a pedestal before me so that I could aspire to their perceived magnificence. I was heartbroken.

-*Wearing nothing but a white Calvin Klein cropped tee and black Jock Strap, he poses for the shot.*

I walked into the water slowly at first, testing the temperature with just my feet. I was finally outside, all alone, once again. Mending. Mending a broken heart takes a lot of work, I thought I had grasped the concept of self-love, the idea of overwhelming yourself with positivity, showering yourself with praise, telling yourself “I love you” even when you don’t mean it. I started to think I didn’t get it. I started to think deeply about myself, my hate, my jealousy, my rage, my love, my reflection. I don’t think I really saw myself until this year, the full person I’d become over these twenty-odd years of life.

“I love you Chazeem” I gigged. Fighting insecurity is something we struggle with everyday, yes its one of those daily battles nobody tells you about until your actually face to face with it, clawing tooth and nail for your right to exist as yourself in this world. For a long time I didn’t think I had that right and for some reason I had been fighting for it for year, from the grips of society. I didn’t understand that I deserved to be here as much as anyone else did and that I didn’t need anyone’s approval for that. Even so was that enough for me to love myself? Is this realization all we need to embrace ourselves flaws and all. I often feel helpless without the answer to that question, but I’m trying to fine the answer. At least now I can say “I love you” and mean it.

As an adult I am still riddled with insecurities, here are a few; my body, my intelligence, my loneliness, my instability, my fear, my job, my career, my family, my friends, me.

Hit Me Hard and Soft

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The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We