Written By: Andy Weir
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
And now off with the pants.
Last year, I wrote Why I'm going shirtless which details my personal struggle with body image. If you haven't yet read it, start there, then come back and continue reading.
For as long as I can remember, I have struggled to accept the way my body looks. Specifically, I struggle with how my stomach looks. Not that I think I am fat (although I previously thought that I was), but that I don't like the way I look or how I feel. As a perfectionist, I never quite feel good enough.
Do you know what I mean?