I grew up a skinny kid who was happy, healthy, and who had a positive outlook on life. Then at age 11 a series of difficult life events changed all that: my parents went through a horrible divorce which lead to me to slowly sink into a serious depression. I started eating a lot of food to bury the pain, and before long I got chubby. I also started to develop the dreaded moobs which have caused no end of pain and humiliation for me over the past 24 years. By age 13 my self confidence and sense of self worth were destroyed. I developed intense anxiety that has persisted to this day.
Today I am 35: I am a tall, broad shouldered guy who has spent time being in great shape, and time being very overweight (around 300 lbs). Like many people on this site, my weight has had little effect on the prominence of my moobs: fat or thin, they are always there. Mine are pretty bad: they basically look like a sumo wrestler’s: there is no missing them, and it is nearly impossible to hide them while wearing normal clothes.
A lot of times I will look down at my moobs, and imagine a thin metal blade like a guillotine slicing down and chopping them clean off. Like cutting off a cancerous growth, or a horrible alien parasite. Just get them off.
I can distinctly remember the first time someone looked at me strangely when I didn’t have a shirt on. I was 11 and running around inside the house with my two cousins (both dudes)...it was a hot summer and we all had our shirts off. I remember my cousins’ aunt trying to get us to settle down, and then she looked down at me without my shirt on: her eyes bugged out, she went stone cold silent, and she just stared at me. After a moment she said to me in a concerned tone “maybe you should put your shirt back on.” She said this only to me; not my cousins. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, and unsure of what to say.
Some other fun gyno related memories:
Age 13: during soccer practice I got in a fight with a teammate: a truly horrible, cruel hearted little bastard who started calling me “titty boy”.
Age 22: was chilling in the hot tub with a buddy at the rec center. Two cute girls were sitting across from us, looking at us, doing the whispering, giggling to each other thing. After a while they left and my friend turned to me and said: “they were laughing at your man titties.”
Age 27: was at the beach with my girlfriend, and four other friends. After a long day of drinking and having fun, I was laying on my back without my shirt on getting some sun. One of the people with us (a nasty, and stuck up girl I had only just met that weekend) looked down at me and said loudly out of nowhere “your boobs are burning”. I have never had the desire to smash in someone’s face so bad in my life. But by some miracle of self control I held my breath, and decided to keep the peace rather than rip her a new one, and ruin the weekend fun for everyone.
Despite feeling defeated and hopeless for a long time, the good news is, I had an epiphany a few nights ago: I decided that after years of feeling horrible about myself, i am going to get gynecomastia surgery. It just struck me suddenly, and intensely as something that needs to happen. Sure I could continue to live the rest of my life like this, but I want to know what life is like not feeling self conscious all the time, feeling like a freak; an outsider.
Not to sound like a defeated sad sack of a human being, but the reality is, I’ve got a lot of serious problems I have tried desperately over the years to overcome with very little success. In addition to moobs I’ve struggled with: crippling, almost constant anxiety, embarrassing excessive sweating, intense IBS, serious depression, food addiction, obesity, and debilitating low self esteem. I haven’t ever truly felt so little hope in life that I considered suicide, but I can say that as an adult having dealt with these problems for nearly 25 years, I can understand how somebody would see suicide as a viable alternative to dealing with years of suffering.
I am hoping that by having the surgery I can take a big step towards rebuilding my life and learning to love myself again after years of self-loathing and living in fear.
Finding this site and reading about the struggles of other men with this condition has been an incredible source of strength, and inspiration to me. It has given me hope. Thank you to everyone who has shared their stories, fears, triumphs, and challenges while living life with gynecomastia. Thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart for being brave enough to share your personal stories with others.