Some of you may have noticed that during the day, I changed the photo at my last post from a stock photo to one where I am wearing the purple bathrobe.
This photo is me is un-retouched. No filters. No Photoshop. No flashy photographic gimmicks. I owe it to Sophia for pushing me into presenting myself au naturale. As I discussed two weeks ago, putting a photo of myself online is not an easy thing for me to do. Today, there was a war of words with Sophia over this photo issue, a back-and-forth much bigger than the one over the bathrobe itself.
This morning, Sophia woke me up. She was reading my post on her laptop. She thought the previous photo was a loser and the post would be better if it showed myself wearing the purple bathrobe. She suggested that we take a photo in the living room.
After she took the photo, I went into my office to check it out. I hated the way I looked and started to Photoshop it. I tried to reduce the size of my bed-head hair, and to eliminate my unshaven double chin.
As I worked with the zillions of Photoshop tools, Sophia stopped by.
“What are you doing?” she asked, in that certain voice that I know means trouble.
“Nothing.”
“You’re Photoshopping yourself again, aren’t you?”
“So?”
“So, you look great in that photo. Why do you need to do this?”
For some reason, Sophia gets pissed at me whenever I try to fix myself in photos. She is of the belief that it is “unmanly” for me to be “so vain” about my appearance.
“What about when I take your photo?” I asked, ready to debate. “You’re always so picky!”
“That’s different. I’m a woman.”
“You don’t complain when I dress up.”
“That’s because you look sexy when you dress up. But it’s not sexy to have a man Photoshopping his own chin.”
“Why not?!”
“You’re a MAN. This is how a man looks. You’re not supposed to look all air-brushed. It’s so gay.”
“That’s an insult to gays.”
“OK, my apologies to gays.”
“Can I go back to my Photoshop please?”
I returned to Photoshopping my photo.
“Are you trying to photoshop your double chin?”
“Exactly.”
“Now it makes you look like you have goiters.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let me try to use the blend tool.”
“Now you look like you have a tracheotomy. Why don’t you just photoshop in an oxygen mask?”
“Maybe I’ll take my whole head off and lower it over my chin.”
“Then you’ll look like a Hobbit. Is it really worth it? Don’t be so insecure, Neilochka. You look cute. Women will see the real you and will still go “ooh” and “ahh.” Just the way you like, I promise.”
“Are you sure you just don’t want me to look bad?”
“Why would I want that?”
“So, if we split up, I won’t date some hot blogger before you date someone else?”
“We have split up. Go date someone. Be my guest. You’re the one who doesn’t want to leave my house!”
“C’mon, Neil, listen to her – publish it. ” yelled my Penis. “Be confident.”
“You, too, Penis? I asked. “But aren’t you worried that no woman wants to f**k a man with a double chin.”
“No,” my Penis responded. “No woman wants to f**k a man who Photoshops his chin. It’s not the size of anything you have, but how many times you can make her yell, *&@&% me again, you $@*&%$!”
“Your Penis is right. Be a man,” said Sophia, nodding in agreement with my Penis. “This is what you look like, chin and all. Accept it and be happy with it.”
Damn, Sophia was right.
So, Mazel tov to me. TODAY, I became a man. I published the photo — totally un-retouched.
A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: I Am So Over Boobs
 
 
 
 
 
