‘Sometime during my initial weeks there, I entrusted a teacher with my loneliness, upon which she put all my classmates in a circle around me and told them: ”Philip doesn’t think he has any friends.” It was absolutely mortifying, because it seemed as though I had asked her to do this, but it was the last thing I wanted. When you are afraid of being rejected, it is safer to be the one who rejects first. So, I told my classmates I didn’t need any friends.
Instead, I inflicted my pain on my classmates by making jokes at their expense. Hurt people hurt people. The bullying gave me a sense of power and control. Some kids said I was quite nice once they got to know me – which I thought was a compliment. I was like ”yes, I have high standards. You are only worthy of my friendship if you can break through my barriers.” Of course, this attitude stems from a fear of being myself and of being vulnerable. It is also compensation for my low self-esteem, because I mainly bullied the kids that wore glasses and were chubby – in short, kids that looked like me.
‘More than ever I felt the urge to get away as far as possible from my parents, and I moved to Berlin’
My dad sometimes made horrible remarks about my weight, and as a result I’ve come to see myself as fat. And unlovable.
My dad is a bully, a right-wing conservative who’s not very smart. The mistake he made was sending me away to a school where my smartness and curiosity were encouraged. Every time I saw him, I would provoke him by calling him out on the stupid things he said. We were fighting all the time and every time I’d win.
Somewhere in my twenties, my therapist advised me to ask my dad if he loved me. I did, and he replied: ”You’re my son, of course I love you. I just don’t like you.” His response came as a shock, of course, but I also felt relieved. For years I had struggled with our bad relationship. Now, I didn’t have to care anymore. More than ever I felt the urge to get away as far as possible from my parents, and I moved to Berlin.
In Berlin, I lost an enormous amount of weight, shaved my head and grew my beard. I threw myself into the Berlin nightlife where I got a lot of sex: at parties, after parties, whenever, wherever, whoever. It was mind-blowing. Men seemed to find me attractive, and the hook-ups gave me a sense of being seen and validated.
‘I have a fetish for bodybuilders, big and beefy guys who will only give me attention if I look like them’
One day, I met a German guy called Sebastian and we got on really well. After a year and a half of being together, he confessed he wasn’t happy about me going to clubs and sleeping around, and he asked me to give this up for him. I couldn’t. He said: ”Are you telling me we have all these feelings for each other and you are throwing it away because you want to have sex with strangers?”
The answer was yes, and we broke up. I really regret hurting his feelings. I think I would have tried to be monogamous if I was really in love with him – but to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling for anyone.
When I go clubbing, I go by myself, because I don’t want to rely on anyone and I don’t want anyone to rely on me. I usually have a good experience with the people I bump into, but I’m not often invited to things. I’m not in people’s friendship groups. I’m sometimes lonely, but there isn’t a lot you can do about it. I don’t want to be in a position where I would beg someone to be my friend; it would embarrass people and they would think of me as pathetic and needy.
‘I can imagine some people think of my body as undesirable, as a body you don’t want to have sex with’
I have body dysmorphia, which means I don’t see my body the way others see it. When I look into the mirror, I see a chubby guy with a gross belly. I can imagine some people think of my body as undesirable, a body you don’t want to have sex with. I’m happy my beard covers my round, formless chin, but it’s not enough. When a guy gives me a compliment, it feels great, but it also feels like he is lying.
I don’t necessary feel masculine, because to me masculinity has to do with a lot of things I don’t like. And it reminds me of my dad: the abuse of power, the dumb physical exercises. That being said, I have a fetish for bodybuilders, big and beefy guys who will only give me attention if I look like them. So I keep exercising to gain more muscles and to look even more like a ‘real man’.
I know validation shouldn’t come from other people’s views about my appearance; it should come from an inner knowledge that I am worthy of love. But I’m not there yet, and I don’t know if I will ever. I just don’t know how. I really don’t.’