Wanna Fuck?
It seems antithetical to my distaste for the fitness industry’s message, “you’re unfuckable, we can help,” to be saying, “well, for those unfuckable parts in all of us, actual fitness can help.” Yet, here I am saying it: if you’ve ever felt a little unfuckable, maybe a pursuit of strength is exactly what you’re missing. I know, I know, how dare she!? Just hear me out.
For clarity’s sake, let’s go ahead and define the pillars of this exploration: un/fuckable and fitness.
Urban dictionary is the obvious source for the un/fuckable definition, and for me, this one really hits the mark:
Okay, so maybe refuckable is what we’re aiming for here. And I posit that fitness is what will help us become a person someone may like to fuck again, and again, and again. (Or that we, ourselves, would like to fuck, yeah?)
So then, what is fitness? Let’s try urban dictionary once more.
Hmm. Not quite. Let’s try another.
Closer, since, as we’ll learn, being fit is decidedly hot… but still not quite.
Here’s my definition…
Fitness: Increasing the quality of your life through movement.
As we’ve discussed previously, life is movement, so using movement to live better is not only useful — i.e. makes you more fit to live well — but also makes you more desirable. Cuz let’s face it, people who can do stuff and do it well are simply more attractive.
That said, the way the fitness industry sells fuckableness (and well, basically everything) is bogus. As evidenced by the totally unsexy gym bro, it’s not just being ripped that will have people drooling at the thought of you. It’s not just the size of the wave that will have the masses or that special someone salivating for your every move. It’s the motion of the ocean. It’s the whole package. No, not that package, you dirty, dirty girl. Focus!
Okay, fine, I admit it. How you use your hylomorphic package — body, mind and, spirit intertwined in all their yummy goodness — is a big part of this. I mean, men don’t wanna fuck a dead fish? Well women don’t wanna be fucked by a one speed jackhammer. Go figure.
Considering this body, mind, and spirit stuff, let’s come back to a question I know I’ve posed in the past: what is strength? Depending on who you are and your personal context, there are a lot of ways to define it. But ultimately, what is it? Ability. The ability to do, to express, to move, to understand, to feel, to connect, to go soft, hard, slow, fast, upside down, inside out, and anything else you can imagine… and to do it all well. Sounds kinda like fitness, huh?
If you look at some sloppy fool, you’re likely not saying to yourself, “yeah, that person is FIT. Damn, I wanna lick their sweat.” No, you’re more likely thinking, “what a klutz. Probably wouldn’t even know how to find the hole.”
No shame intended here, but the truth is, body awareness is something we as a culture — obsessed with our screens and recliners and lack of personal responsibility disguised as “gentleness” — have largely lost touch with. And it’s just not hot. I mean, the superhero thing is popular for a reason. Even if we don’t realize it, we aspire to be physically in touch with our power. I don’t wanna fuck like a fragile little thing. I wanna fuck like an animal. A raw, pulsing, force of nature who is wholly in touch with her ability to connect with and express the pleasure of being a physically embodied hottie.
Embodiment. The word is overused (and misused) to a degree that’s gotten me a bit miffed, yet it points to the elements of flow, grace, and mastery inherent to strength that we often unconsciously appreciate. We see the way someone moves through the world — their posture, their smoothness, their confidence — and we perceive the energy of a person who knows what the fuck is up. And when someone knows what the fuck is up, we tend to want a piece of that. Amirite?
You can tangibly sense the insecurity that underlies the false bravado of a puffed out chest and a “too cool for you,” attitude. Or the woman with those pouty lips playing the role of the bimbo even though she’s a mensa-level genius. Those facades are not nearly as attractive as the cool collectedness and ease of someone who feels so internally stable they don’t need to put on a show. What I’m saying is, strength is fucking HOT. And you know it, but maybe you don’t know you know.
So why don’t we all pursue strength?
Well… I have some ideas.
First of all, sex sells.
I mean. I titled this article, “Wanna Fuck?” and that probably got your attention, right? And now you’re reading and nodding in agreeance. Yes?
Strong is sexy and sex sells, so naturally the fitness industry (and uh, all industries) sell ideas of sexy to reel you into pursuits of “strength.” We all wanna be sexy. No shame in that. It’s just that sexy doesn’t come from a particular look and it certainly doesn’t come from fit teas and fat burners and any of the other jillions of supplements the wellness industry “swears by.” Hmmmmm. Well, what then? Maybe hard work and a desire to connect with oneself? Wow. Go figure. Sexy strength comes from going within and doing the work. Not just hard work like things that make you exhausted for no real purpose but to be a sweaty sloppy injured mess (ahem, crossfit, ahem), but hard work with purpose, which I’ve talked about plenty before.
It’s not surprising that the majority of average gym-goers (and non gym-going humans in general) lack purpose; the fitness industry hardly knows its ear from its ass, so how could its swaths of “influencers” possibly help you organize a useful program, let alone help you become the sex symbol you've always dreamed of becoming? Like, no, Chad, you’re not gonna make me wet by riffing on the latest diet trend unless we’re talking about you licking off my whipped cream bikini.
Like I said, gym bros may be nice to look at, but god forbid they open their mouths and their 21-inch biceps1 may as well be baby vomit. I can only imagine their lack of attention to detail in the bedroom. Too busy staring at themselves in the mirror Patrick Bateman style. Oops. Did I say that? Listen, I'm a fan of the mirror, too. And not to sound I dunno, full of myself or anything… but I’m pretty good at this sex stuff. I’m also strong, and hot, and generally in awe of my ability. And sometimes I just realllllly like to see how Luke fucks me.
I digress. Or do I? Maybe this is exactly the point. I wanna see what I and we can DO. And the reason I can do things like fuck well, is that I’ve cultivated a hot AF relationship with my body.
What is a hot AF relationship with your body, you ask? One where you don’t fear its abilities, for starters. For me, this looks like keeping the desire to grow alive, then consistently training and practicing to deepen and expand my connection with the power that I have the privilege of feeling and expressing through my body. Sometimes this means squats and deadlifts and other “gym stuff,” sometimes it’s dancing and feeling my body express, and sometimes it’s fucking… for joy, for connection, for opening and expanding and dissolving into something beyond me. Which is also pretty damn hot.
Whew, got carried away there. What was I pondering? Oh, right.
If we know strength is sexy and we all wanna be sexy, why don’t we all pursue strength?
Did I answer the question? Well, let me sum it up anyhow.
We’re spun around, misdirected, and blinded by the message that the image of strength will make us sexy, so instead of pursuing strength itself, we pursue the result (sexiness), thinking our hot little outfits and bulging biceps will make us desirable. But we often do so with the undertone of kinda hating ourselves. And I don’t know about you, but for me, that’s not hot.
What is hot, then? A desire to better oneself and one’s community through consistent pursuits of intense, honest, purposeful movement and contemplation rooted in self connection… and the subsequent ability to share that through our way of being in the world.
At least, that’s my opinion.
So I ask again: wanna fuck?
;)
xx Faye
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An interesting note: there is far more that goes into strength than increase in muscle size alone, or in nerd terms, hypertrophy does not necessarily predict an increase in force production. What I’m saying is, as much as I appreciate a hard body, those biceps may be mostly fluff.
I enjoyed reading this article.
I also appreciate the courage it took to share, because it is very capable of ruffling feathers in today's climate (I am guessing that was apart of the fun for you though) .
I love how you pointed out most gym goes have no purpose. Totally accurate. I find this to be the case in a lot of cultivation.
It's usually something vague. I digress.
One thing I wanted to add is that what I find most us truly desire for ourselves is 'the feeling of stegnth'. We want 'feel strong'.
Because objective strength in and if itself is actually nebulous and always conditional.
For some people, that will never include classical weightlifting for example.
The secrets of a person's individual body are often held by specific art/s or types of arts.
Great photo of that gal, was she AI or ay-ya-yi? That whole strength thing was always an interesting thing. In my early 20’s I delivered Sheetrock with another guy, Luke was his name. We were both at 6’ and was maybe 170, about like me but he could carry 5/8” fire rated board, 12’, two at a time alone all day. That man was a walking freak show of power.
On many days we moved 90 tons.