my story goes to show how badly gynecomastia can affect our lives.
i am a 24-year-old male. i am in great physical shape (save the chest) -- i run prolifically. i graduated from a great, well-known college -- at the very top of my class. now i attend the most-selective and competitive academic institution in the world. i know foreign languages, i know classical music, i know wine, i know philosophy, i know the classics: i know it all.
yet i am insecure as darn. i can't talk to girls. hell, i can't even talk to men. the chest is always on my mind. when a girl asks me to do something, go to the movies, grab dinner, or whatever, i am afraid. i create excuses to get out. or i invite other men along to compensate for my lack of company. i am afraid to pursue women. i am afraid to get to know them. why? well, what's the use of getting know a woman? there's only so much one can do with a woman when he's got gynecomastica. i think ahead, and i know i'd never be able to hug her -- she'd fill my womanly breasts. if i can't get further than a hug, then why even pursue the relationship in the first place? because i've stayed away from intimacy in all respects, as i am afraid to get close to someone because of my gynecomastia, i am socially under-developed. i don't know how to talk seriously with people. i am constantly worried about my chest. i undervalue my self as a human being. as a result, i am submissive. i try to kiss ass, try to impress people, because i think i am less than everyone else. i think of myself as less than everyone -- and all this despite my academic and professional accomplishments. i automatically consider myself less a human than everyone. i get up in the morning, and the fucking breasts are on my mind all day. they use 60% of my brain power, and all my actions are geared towards compensating for my breasts: i can't be real. all my actions are compensation-based -- not real. they try to compensate for all my breasts.
gynecomastia has not only affected my ability to meet women in the real world, but it has affected my ability to lust over them. i can't think of women in a sexual way. i cannot even imagine having sex with one. why? the second i try to imagine it, i get afraid. i know it's so far from reality that i cannot even lust. when i pisture a naked woman, the first thing that comes to my mind is my inability to even get close to her, to even touch her. why can't i get close or touch? the breats. i have breasts. they're humiliating. i am anxious and scared. i can't concentrate on the woman because i am too busy concentrating on my fucking breasts.
i have been given a great life by god. i live in the most advanced civilization on earth. i am an incredibly smart and accomplished human being. yet, i am weak. i cannot enjoy the fruits of my life. i cannot for lasting relationships. i have no security. i am filled with insecurity. it's time for them to go. and they're going. i contacted a few surgeons earlier today. i cannot live life fully with the breasts.
i just got an e-mail from a female classmate who wanted to go see a movie. the first thing that came to my mind was fear and anxiety and apprehension. i can't even attend movies with females because i am so fucking self-conscious of the gynecomastia. what do i do? i invite other men along. because i have to keep my distance from her. i am afraid to get close. the breats are always on my mind.
they must go. nay, they WILL go.