Bulimia

a memoir

In the small town where touchdowns held more significance than Christmas and basketball hoops were worshipped more than altars, he was meticulously fashioned to be a champion. His dad, a towering pillar of masculinity with a trophy case that could spark envy in Michael Jordan himself, had predestined him to uphold his legacy. From the moment he was swathed in his first blanket, his infant attire declared "Future MVP" and "Infant Phenom," setting up the stage for a life drenched in athletic glory.

As he bloomed from an eager toddler into an increasingly reluctant pudgy child athlete, his passion for pirouettes and pompoms began to eclipse any fleeting interest he had in home runs or touchdowns. His immaculate white uniform — always spotless amidst a sea of mud-splattered teammates — served as a beacon guiding him towards his genuine self.

But alas! His dad remained unwaveringly committed to his dream of shaping him into his athletic replica. Footballs were swapped for basketballs, then baseballs, then soccer balls — each sport concluding in the same predictable cycle of disappointment and indifference.

Throughout these misguided attempts at masculinity cultivation, his dad's mantra reverberated like a broken record: "This will mold you into a man." But what kind of man? A man who dry heaves before every game? A man who hides behind water coolers during timeouts? A man who secretly prays for sprained ankles just to escape the relentless torment?

Or perhaps...a man who finds comfort in arranging fashion shows for his sister’s Barbie dolls? Admiring and envying the svelte figure. Or Vogueing to Madonna?

His defining moment arrived during an epic free-throw shooting contest at the city’s Fourth of July celebration. Against all odds (and much to his own bewilderment), he emerged victorious. He didn't feel joy, only more pressure. But he had a secret weapon, one that would shatter the glass cage of his dad's toxic masculinity. With a deep breath, he uttered the words: "Dad, I'm gay." The declaration lingered in the air like an unexpected plot twist in a soap opera.

In response, his dad promptly pulled over and left him at the cheerleading sign-up office. And it was there that he learned how to stick a spoon down his throat.