12 Steps for Getting Over a Validation Addiction Part One

Last week I confessed my Addiction to Validation and promised my 12-step routine to get over it. I also outlined a potential Magic Pill solution, whereby an Ultimate Catch can teach you to love yourself by loving you. 

That's right. Ignore the writing on the wall. He really does love you.

Problem is too often this seeming Ultimate Catch is more likely a seasoned Player Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. He finds an unsuspecting and undeveloped soul with limited self-worth to satiate their own need for a relationship power fix. When the player kicks the played to the curb, we enter a dangerous Stage Three Validation Cycle, fueled by broken dreams and cynical disillusionment. All it takes is one douchebag asshole to forever corrupt a naive soul, making them believe true connections don’t really exist. This jaded notion can lead to a Validation Addiction so virulent it could be lifelong. These wounded warriors can become the Players for Life we fear - forever praying on lost souls like you or me. Be weary of these these hope-crushing, insecurity-fueling Incubus slutbags. Fall pray to their dark temptations and you could become one yourself.   

Stage Three Validation Addiction comes with high risk of becoming a Player For Life

Cautionary tales aside, this blog post is, after all, about hope for change. Luckily I have the wisdom to avoid that villainous path and I’ve chosen to call a spade a spade and beat this addiction once and for all. So let's get that soul cleansed and learn how to Validate Ourselves!

1. STOP HAVING SEX WITH STRANGERS!  

Whether you use Grindr or random bars to find your hookups, there is simply nothing to gain from having anonymous, meaningless sex. Besides of course nasty STIs, heartache and/or soul-rot. If you’re ambitious, or fancy yourself the entrepreneurial spirit - especially if you’re even remotely artistic and creative - chances are you could be doing something more productive with your time. You could argue it will train your aptitude in bed, but the empirical reality is that great sex requires an intimate connection, typically formed after repeat, and therefore increasingly more meaningful encounters.

Strap yourself in one of these if you have to. 

Obviously not all sex is bad. As Steven Pressfield says in The War of Art: “you can generally tell by the feeling of emptiness you have afterwards”. This is to say, quality sex with an intimate partner is rejuvenating, even inspiring, and comes fully endorsed. If, however, you’re a Validation Addict like me, you probably try to justify Meaningless Sex encounters as Meaningful. You’ll probably have to go cold turkey for a little while. Consider it like Lent in the Bedroom. The sexual frustration is good for you.

2. STOP RANDOM DATING COMPLETELY (AND AVOID THE COMPLACENCY TRAP)!

Stop going on lames dates with guys a decade your junior and justifying them as more than what they are. "But I'm not looking for sex or hookups, so it’s different, right?" 

Wrong. An addiction to meeting new potential romantic connections (that you never see again 93% of the time) is the same, if not worse than meaningless sex, because it eats up way more Productive Time. If you’re not just using a “dinner/drinks date” as an appetizer before getting off, you’re probably on the hunt to fill that missing hole in your life. A hole that can’t be filled by another guy (or gal). If it can be filled by a guy, then welcome to the Complacency. And guess what happens to relationships based on Complacency? 

That's right, mid-life crises, temptation for better things and inevitably broken hearts. And guess what those lead to? As yes, Stage Three Validation Addiction. 

They say 94% of Complacent Relationships End in Heartbreak or Broken Dreams 

To pull off this extreme form of moderation, you may need to delete your online dating presence for good. Not only is E-dating a real waste of time sifting losers from monsters, but incompatible personality, sense of humor or sexual chemistry just can’t be detected on the web anyway. The reality is the vast majority of online daters aren’t amazing “catches” that are "just so busy, this is the only way they can can meet other quality guys". They’re people just like you, with a warped sense of priorities that feel a burning need to be validated by others. 

3. FILL THE GAP IN YOUR SCHEDULE WITH PRODUCTIVE TIME!

Okay, so you’ve cut two dangerous temptations from your life: hookups and crappy dates. Give yourself a serious pat on the back. If you’re a Validation Addict, this probably opened up a massive gap in your schedule you can now fill with Productive Activity. Writing new scripts or a chapter in the next YA blockbuster bestseller. Brainstorming new business ideas with your mentor friends (but not fellow validation addicts).  Learning a language, building your portfolio or taking up the violin all count. So if you think you're creatively blocked, then go workout or spend your time un-cluttering the workspace for future, focused working sessions. Take on new instructed classes if you require some kind of dictator to keep you from slipping off the path. This is all time better spent than an evening without a real connection, that likely won’t be remembered a week later.

If you're using the laptop to access hook-ups site, it doesn't count.

Unfortunately, potential Productive Time clearly does not equate to actual Productive Time which is always governed by a unique combination of Discipline and Willpower, things you almost surely lack. Here your restless mind tends to wander, routinely drifting back to dangerous feelings of low self-esteem and a tendency to procrastinate. Don't worry. We'll work on that. 

4. DEVELOP YOUR DRIVE WITH DISCIPLINE AND WILLPOWER! 

If you’re trying to stick to a productive routine, nothing helps by trading bad habits in your life for disciplined good ones. This means keeping up with your daily iron-pumping workouts, while avoiding cheats on your diet, to help achieve or maintain your Adonis figure.   

But wait a minute! Doesn’t this just enable your vanity? That preoccupation with looking and feeling good that inevitably leads to Validation Sex and Broken Routines? Well not if you've removed Sex With Strangers from your timetable! The reality is, Discipline and Willpower love company (just like misery). So if you apply this kind of measured routine into your life, the drive to produce work and resist cheap validation will begin to come just as naturally for you. 

It's okay to use beauty to motivate Drive. Meaningless sex isn't the only thing its good for.

I’ve discovered Beauty Gives me Power and not just in terms of confidence. I get my best ideas when I’m working out and are endorphins are flooding my neo-cortex. If eating well and training hard makes me feel so good about myself, why the hell would I slip back to square one, by eating my feelings or skipping the gym? Don’t listen to friends or family who tell you to "relax" or say its okay to “live a little”. These are your Negative Influence Friends. They probably gave up in their own quests for self-validation and they probably don't enjoy that you're better looking then them. Now, what to do about them? 

5. RECOGNIZE THE NEGATIVE INFLUENCE FRIENDS AND CUT THEM LIKE CANCER!

This might be the toughest band-aid to rip-off of them all. The friends that love you The Way That You Are will want you to stay that way and won't like when you change. They might enjoy your fun spontaneity or delight in the tales of your Boy Crazy Drama. In the worst case, they may enjoy making you the butt of all their sassing jokes, so you get used to seeing your insecurities as normal. Deep down, they're almost surely as insecure and unhappy as you, so the idea of you developing Discipline and Willpower they lack will only piss them off. Unfortunately, being addicted to Validation, you likely prefer these kind of friends, because lifelong masochism attracts you to abusive relationships, even in platonic form.  

Negative Influence Friends. 

I'm not saying you must create drama by publicly dumping all your Negative Influence friends on Facebook. Allow actions to speak louder than words. Hang out with your Positive Influence friends (if you have any) more than the negative ones. Say no to a party night of binge-drinking because you'd rather stay in and work on your book. I know, the Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) will probably make this task nigh unthinkable (we'll fix that soon), but it is necessary if you want to avoid situations that make you prone to bad habits. Replacing bad friends with good ones probably sounds tough. But if you've successfully begun to take advantage of your quality friends and started to put in Productive Time hours, your Negative Influence Friends will naturally become resentful and probably cut themselves out of your life.

6. EMPLOY YOUR POSITIVE INFLUENCE FRIENDS IN THE WAR!

It's easy to identify these friends in your inner circle. They're the busy ones that have real lives and real jobs and aren't partying 3-4 nights a week. You probably didn't see much of them before because you were too busy focusing on your amazing sex-life or finding the one. Well it's time to surround yourself with these motivating forces. 

Positive Influence Friends.

But it's important you spend quality time with these buddies and stop inundating your Positive Influence Friends with tales of your depressing dating and/or sex life. Giving play-by-play commentary of that time you hooked up with the 17-year-old high-schooler and almost got charged with statutory rape (ah, good times). The problem of continually regaling your sexual exploits to your friends, you’re not only tainting your shared experiences, but validating the collective view that you’re a massive sleaze-bucket (and not the Oscar-winning Writer you’d like to one day be). The more air time you give these sordid affairs, the more you satiate your insecurity monsters instead of slaying them. Keep this stuff to yourself. Better yet, stop getting into the experiences you know, deep down, are bad ones.

Instead make a conscious effort to enlist your good friends in the war against Validation. Your good friends (the ones that never condoned your self-destructive lifestyle to begin with) make great Agents of Accountability in the War on Validation. You can brainstorm with these kind of friends, or engage in other kinds of Mutual Productive Time (as long as that doesn't turn into Mutual Masturbation). You can even sign Contracts with financial penalties for cheats, if your willpower is really that bad. The point is, when you’ve made a pact to make positive change in your life, don’t be ashamed to admit it. Your friends can keep you on track.

And whew! That brings us to the end of this week's lesson. I know, I know: we've only made it half-way and we still have so far to go. The thing is, you need some time to digest these first main points. Plus I'm super long-winded and this blog entry is already too long. 

In any event, you'll cure yourself of the addiction in Seven Days Time. 

I have a Confession to Make...

Okay. First a necessary precursor: It’s been over TWO months since my last blog post. I could say I was busy shooting the documentary and writing my book. Both excuses are based in partial truth so therefore might sound valid. But let’s also be clear: they’re also Bullshit, just like all excuses known to man. The unfortunate truth is I have an addiction, the satiation of which kept me from releasing this next post, which is actually the topic of the very post itself. How’s that for bitter irony?

Writing these blog posts is kind of like an exercise in cathartic release and psychotherapy. Once I use the digital page to exorcise one of my demons, I can’t exactly fall back on my word? That would make me Queen of the Hypocrites.  

If you've slept with any of the gentlemen pictured here, this blog post is for you!

So perhaps, subconsciously, I needed to go through one last cycle of tempting bad habits. Re-downloading Grindr (after I'd pledged to Never be a Hookup Whore ever again) and meeting up with 20-something prettyboys to gorge my need to feel young, hot and desirable. Getting lazy and eating muffins at Starbucks so that I could get fat again (by my standards), so I’d have an excuse to look down on myself, and blame the problems in my life on not being goodlooking enough. I know it all sounds crazy, but these are the Symptoms of a much more virulent addiction. And it’s one I plan to beat.   

So faithful and patient readers. Without further ado, I have a confession to make.

Bryce Pre-Addiction. He didn't smoke, party or do drugs. But he also never had sex. 

I’ve always put myself on a self-righteous pedestal because I lived my adolescence on the straight-and-arrow. I got straight A’s in the 90s. I didn’t drink or go to parties because I was too busy trying to be Hermione Granger and Alex Trebek's love child (okay Hermione wasn't born when I was in high school, so the idea of her sleeping with a man in his 70s is kind of gross, but you get the point). I’ve always resisted the boozing, drugs and even smoking that tempt mere mortals. 

But then I came out of the closet and you all know what happened there. That’s right, I excavated my deep insecurities and transformed into the delayed douchebag you love (or love to hate) today. Problem is, remember how I said I’m trapped in the third quadrant? The phase where one Makes Up For Lost Time where you trade your self-respect and dignity for a six-pack and high-school hookups. Well here is where I discovered an addiction to Validation (of Sexual Desire). A drug worse than cocaine. 

Stage One Validation Addiction: Former Fatties will know it well.

Anybody cursed with an addiction for validation knows it's pretty simple. 

You look in the mirror and hate what you see. So you go to the gym and pump iron until someone tells you "you're hot." It will start with friends, family and colleagues, but their empty compliments mean nothing, because they're not having sex with you. But eventually you'll start to get attention from randoms in the bar. Or you'll put up hot new pictures on Grindr. And just like magic, you'll start having sex with guys you could never have sex with before. You might wake up feeling empty or shameful you didn't do something more productive. But luckily there's always another sexy hookup to make you escape those shameful thoughts! 

Unfortunately, in Stage One Validation Addiction, you will be plagued by unrelenting Self-Doubt. As you break your routine (and lose your sense of discipline), this can subconsciously lead to Shame-fueling Binge Eating. If it's really bad you might actually get fat again, but, either way, that's what you will see when you look in the mirror. You might think the easy cure is simply getting validated. You could tell me I have a great body and mean it - but guess what, chances are I’ll forget by the next day, when I reach the next hurdle in life. When you’re truly addicted to validation, you keep raising the stakes, eventually adding Body Dysphoria and Perfectionism

Stage Two Validation Addiction: PLAYERS FOR LIFE suffer from this.

In Stage Two Validation Addiction, your self-sabotaging Stockholme Syndrome loses its grip, and you realize Upper Echelon Grindr Hotties can only be attained by going to ridiculous extremes of dieting and exercise. You'll believe you've Raised your Standards and adopt a truly visceral Body Dysmorphia. So when you look in that mirror, you'll still see the Fat Monster you always hated. And thus the Cycle of Validation starts anew, as per above. 

The fact that I decided to pursue a career in entertainment makes my validation addiction cripplingly two-fold. It’s sexual and creative! Basically I either need you to say you desire me or you think I’m brilliant! A daily bout of writer’s block can fuel a sense of creative talentlessness. To escape that feeling, I might try to score a (meaningless) date or hookup. If I fail in that, I'll blame my inch of pinch-able fat. If I succeed I might beat myself up for not being productive.  

The thing with an addiction to validation, there isn’t a set paradigm for curing it. How many validation rehab clinics have you heard of? A 12-step regime or Validation Anonymous? Sure you can spend hundreds on psychotherapy (and believe me I have), but chances are that will only solidify the idea that you're crazy, and make you dependent on Therapeutic Validation.  

Holy Grail Cure for Validation: If either of these Chris' falls in love with you, you can skip my next blog post.

The easy cure for an Addiction to Validation is a deeply fulfilling long-term relationship with a smoking hot Ultimate Catch. That's right, to become an Ultimate Catch, you must earn the love of an Ultimate Catch. He or she will accept you despite your insecurities because in their storied wisdom, they can see your unearthed potential. Because they’ve got a 9 face and 9 body, you’ll actually trust their esteemed judgement. You’ll become the effortlessly confidant hunkosaurus Rex pretty much overnight.

Alas (and this is a good thing), we live in a world where you have to love yourself before you can truly be loved. They call this Self-Validation. Now in lieu of magical, meaningful love from Mr. or Mrs. Perfect, chances are, you’re on your own in the big fight. The good news is once you beat this independently, there’s no going back, grasshopper. But if that Ultimate Catch above turns out to be a Player Douchebag and dumps you, welcome to Validation Addiction!

The bad news is I’m extremely long-winded and a bit of a tease. You’ll have to wait until next week for Bryce’s 12-Step Routine to Beating Validation Addiction.

Don't Compromise Yourself: How a Tour of NASA Protected me From Skeezy Hollywood Producers

I set out on this road-trip, this adventure - if you will - because I needed to chase my dreams of writing scripted drama to LA. Like all heroes who embark on big quests, I also felt like something was missing. I needed a change. SENTIMENTALITY WARNING: You may encounter some melodramatic schmaltz in this particular blog entry.  

Since most of the storytellers I've grown to worship as heroes live and thrive in sun-soaked Los Angeles, therein must lie my transcendental answers.    

Hollywood: What better place to find deep, profound enlightenment?

A bit of backstory. I’ve alluded to having a Desperate Need for Validation (my hero's "tragic flaw"). I’d like to think this is semi-normal for hopeless romantics - gay or otherwise - and especially creative folks pursuing careers steeped in rejection. Always questioning if you're really good enough; if you have anything of value to say. Never feeling anybody understands you for who you really are. Finding the cure to this particularly dangerous and not well documented addiction is the subject of my next blog entry, but I digress. 

So I'm a hero with a tragic flaw embarking on a quest. I was prepared for setbacks along the way. But all was well by the time I rolled into Texas - the midpoint of my journey, for you structure-savvy readers into foreshadowing. I'd learned a lot through the redneck Midwest, survived my skeptics' visit to the Museum of Creationism with nary a non-believer flagging. Then I landed in Houston - to reconnect with a friend I made a year ago in New Orleans when I competed against him in the Great Urban Race. The badass part? He works Mission Control at NASA! He does cool science. For a living! 

Staying with him for a few days commenced a whirlwind tour of geeky fun. Videogames, scientific philosophizing, a harrowing Settlers of Catan campaign. It all had its climax during a tour of NASA’s mission control and space station training facilities. 

I did faux-operate the Canada Arm too, but alas, I didn't look hot enough to post it on the blog.

Climbing aboard a space shuttle and sitting in the astronaut's chair, I was reminded some the reasons I chose the path of the career storyteller. To explore what felt like uncharted territory. To take interesting facts of real science, morph it with technobabble to answer provocative and/or ludicrous questions in science-fiction!  

NASA reminded me how much I love science...

Now beyond all the geeking out and all that southern hospitality, NASA had a profound impact on me in another way. I warned you there'd be some sentimental hoo-haa. 

You don't just wake up one day and decide to work for NASA. Working Mission Control was this guy's literal dream job and he took the necessary steps to make it happen. That probably took a little courage, a lot of self-assurance, and oodles of drive, and he did it without compromising himself. The fact is, not many people have the passion to make their dreams come true, especially not while staying buff or good-looking (the leading causes of bad, dreams-derailing behaviour) and I give mad props to that kind of discipline. Being around a fellow hot, gay uber-nerd with an uncompromising sense of who he is, gave me the clarity to understand my own self-worth. I felt like I was validated for the right reasons. 

... when it's packaged in science-fiction! 

By the end of this pitstop, I felt like I already had my answers. All I had to do to apply these epiphanies into making my career a reality in Hollywood. Nothing could possibly go wrong...

So with my wisdom, I arrived in LA with a plan. This trip was all about research. Scoping out the town that would one day be my home-base. Meeting the right kind of people to get an inside scoop on what I need to do to move to Hollywood and pursue a career in scripted drama. So that meant talking to working writers, producers and directors and networking my ass off.

It wasn't long before I had the random luck to meet a producer who’d helped champion two of my favorite films to the silver screen. SIDEBAR: If you're hoping for names, titles or anything less vague, I hate to burst your gossip-hounding bubble, but that's not the point.

What Bryce thought meeting Hollywood producers to discuss his career would be like

Once he'd buttered me up with tales of behind-the-scenes production, he knew I was enamoured, ripe for the picking. The producer reached his hand down my pants and forced a sloppy kiss on me. Remember when Professor Callihan put the moves on Elle Woods just before Brooke Taylor Windham’s trial? How it almost shattered her iron-clab resolve to become a lawyer and fight the discrimination levied against blonds wearing fabulous pink two-piece suits to court?

The outrage!

Alas, once he broke out the coke (does it get more cliché?), I excused myself to the bathroom to freshen up and regroup. I told myself, this was my chance to impress a top producer with an eye for good genre writing. Just go with the flow; live a little; don't be so Bree Van De Kamp. But was this really the kind of shit I'd have to do or put up with just so I could maybe land a contract in Hollywood, assuming this sleaze-ball even remembered me in the morning? 

I thought about NASA and what he probably did to get his dream job in Mission Control. Extensive exam prep during his undergrad. Check. Certainly some rigorous interviews with a few hard-boiled commanders. Maybe his psyche got pushed to the brink in life-or-death simulations (if they do that in Starfleet Academy they must do them at NASA). But was his integrity pushed to the point of compromise when the Flight Director forced him to let loose at Black Eagle? I imagine not.

A job environment where you can't sleep your way to the top.

So I gave an inoffensive excuse and retreated to my hotel for a good disillusioned cry. I know you’re thinking I’m the sort of guy that cries watching Teen Wolf, so what's big deal? Yes. Women have known for centuries that men are objectifying sleazebuckets, so why was I so shocked and horrified to encounter producers and network execs that would use their laurels to get into my pants? 

I guess when you're 4,000 km away from anyone you trust, trying to figure out what you need to do to make your own dreams a reality, you get a bit vulnerable. A touch naive. A lot more stupid. I really thought I’d be connecting with other artists who have similar passions for telling stories. But nope: instead I'd meet a development exec for one of the big four networks to talk shop. Then, after a drink, he'd invite me back to his place to "watch a screener".

Academy Screeners: Device used by crafty producers to lure writers/actors onto their casting couches during the busy holiday season  

I learned countless more horror stories about other gay directors and/or show-runners that had ushered in comic book / YA franchises I adore. In other words, some of my heroes. But apparently they care more about the casting couch, pre-teen orgy parties and satiating any number of drug addictions than telling the stories they get the credit for. I was so debunked. 

What did I learn at the Griffith Observatory? 

With fleeting memories of spirits uplifted back in Houston, I decided to visit the Griffith Observatory for another injection of popular science. The nice thing about planetariums is they quickly remind you not just how cool our universe is, but that it's pretty freaking huge. That it isn't just one seedy collective trying to assimilate you into their conformist ways, even if West Hollywood may seem that way.  

Perspective: What if I lived on Jupiter and weighed 425 pounds?

Despite these not-so-inspiring encounters, I managed to meet just as many writers, producers and show-runners in my last week in LA that didn’t feel the need to cope a feel. In fact, they left me with a couple pieces of wisdom, which I shall now bestow: 

1. To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift: Even if you have a gift for giving good blowjobs, if your writing sucks, your writing still sucks. Just work really hard and get really damn good. Then be persistent in a way that doesn't involve sucking dicks you don't want to suck. You'll be much happier when you land that parking spot on the lot.       

2. Don't meet network executives off of Grindr. West Hollywood is probably not the best place to find profound enlightenment.

3. It's not about getting the big house in the hills. As Miley Cyrus' talented songwriters taught us: it's about The Climb. 

From Chunky to Hunky: the Four Phases of the Male Ugly Duckling Transformed

Let me tell you the story, that is, my story, of the ugly duckling who morphed into a studly drake (forgive my tired duck-themed metaphors).  It’s called From Chunky to Hunky.

It’s a life journey involving four distinct phases. If you were once fat and ugly in high school and you found a way to transform into a specimen of prime sex appeal, you probably went through these key rites of passage. Most of us are more familiar with the female version of this transformation. The Cinderella fairy tale has fueled many a movie makeover (see She’s All That, Mean Girls, Miss Congeniality). But unlike the movies (which benefit from montages and actresses that are already hot underneath the frumpy clothes), REAL MAKEOVERS are arduous journeys of character growth and maturation that require educational blog posts. 

Luckily the tale of transformation comes with a mathematic formula, so worry not. The graph is pretty simple to read. Hotness is measured along the X-axis with awareness along the Y access. And yes, there is a formula to chronicle the reverse process (From Hunky to Chunky), but another day, another blog-post.  

From Chunky to Hunky, the formula is tried, tested and true.

UGLIVIOUS

This is the fun stage where you’re still sort of a naive, innocent child, only MUCH bigger and not so cute. The part where you actually enjoy being ugly, because you’re not aware of the deficits of being ugly (chief among them: not having a sex life). You may discover a knack for the creative arts, because you have so much extra time on your hands. Because you’re not screwing cheerleaders or getting drunk at parties or doing other cool things. I personally escaped into worlds of fantasy and sci-fi and made loads of friends in Ancient Greece, Hogwarts and aboard the USS Voyager. And even though there was lots of implied sexual relations in these worlds, I somehow was clueless that it existed in my own.

Uglivious: Adj. Hideous and sexually unattractive, while being happily unaware that you're hideous and sexually unattractive 

For many, self included, this phase is free of bullying. If you’re fat and jolly or fat and hilarious, people might enjoy your company because you don't care what others think, because you don’t know what they want. As a sidebar, if you’re straight and really fucking funny and really fucking lucky you may never have to graduate out of this phase, because you’ll probably get laid by really hot and potentially insecure girls who are tired of being the victim to so many jock douchebags - it’s either you, or lesbianism. Said hot girls will help raise your stock in popularity, which you can cash in later for adult confidence. By the time you’ve graduated into the real world, your bonafide self-worth will give you an eternal pick of the lady litter. 

Exceptions to the rule. If you're fat and hilarious and star in blockbuster movies, you don't need to change.

If, however you have the unfortunate luck of turning out gay, being not that funny, and/or victim of jock bullies, please proceed to the next level, and yes, it gets worse.

INSECURE LOSER 

This phase is pretty self-explanatory. You’re ugly and you know it. There are a variety of catalysts to get you here, but cold-hard Rejection is the chief culprit. Once you discover you want to go on dates and you get the big fat “Hell NO,” welcome to the era of low self-esteem and jealousy of your hotter friends!   

Insecure Loser: Noun. A guy who knows what he's desperately missing and wears it on his ill-fitting sleeves

This zone sucks. Once you discover that you’re butt ugly, this phase is a scary place. It oftentimes starts with Denial (“maybe I’m just not her type,” “he doesn’t see me for who I am”) Strategic Photo Taking or Photoshopping (in hopes of luring online hotties into going on dates with you) and be prepared for dangerous levels of friendship-crushing Resentment-Forming Jealousy. Worst of all, until you learn the Solution, it could involve some cancerous Eating of Feelings that will only make matters worse. It’ll likely take a Pattern of Repeated Rejections first, but eventually you’ll be inspired to change and become like your hotter friends. You’ll start hitting the gym. Dieting like crazy. Embracing eating disorders and/or smoking. Note, the Injection of Steroids is most likely discovered once you have Body Dysmorphia. And once your become official hot, you pass the Douche Cross Over and enter:  

DELAYED DOUCHEBAG

Once you achieve that dream of washboard abs and discover a chiseled jawline under your former chins, congratulations, it’s time to Make Up For Lost Time, young PLAYER DOUCHEBAG. You’ll get to date guys or girls way younger than you. Start playing the game instead of being the victim of it! You don’t have to be honest and straightforward to dates that show genuine interest in you. You literally get to live the high school experience you never had (shallow relationships) and it’s like a drug rush. Enjoy your Delayed Adolescence!

Delayed Douchebag: Noun. A vain, narcissistic guy who may look like a hot guy in his mid-to-late 20s, but thinks and acts like he's 18.

When Making Up for Lost Time, Vanity rules the show. You’ll be more a slave to mirrors than the Evil Queen from Snow White. And people of substance (from colleagues to friends and quality lovers) won’t be phased by your rock-hard body, seeing the low self-worth you think you’ve disguised. There are dangerous challenges to overcome here. Validation will become a drug, and you may never be satiated. You’ll keep going back for more and more one-night-stands, until you finally realize how meaningless they really are. You may keep Raising The Stakes if you get off on the chase. You’ll develop body dysphoria and need to go to unhealthy extremes to achieve a look your genetics aren’t capable of producing without steroids.    

Some guys get addicted to this lifestyle and never graduate. They become Players for Life. In the story of From Chunky to Hunky, these are the VILLAINS. They are the bad guy. They will tempt you during your own Making up for Lost Time phase and potentially prevent you from ever seeing the forest for the Trees - or, perhaps more aptly, seeing the Stud for the Abs. The sooner you can look past the rock hard pecs and identify these dudes yourself for the soulless, vapid douchenozzles they are...you’re on the road to becoming:   

THE ULTIMATE CATCH

  

Also known as None of This Shit Matters (But I’m Still Hot). They're seemingly oblivious to the fact that they're hot (because it's impossible to be completely ignorant if you're hot). You know these guys when you see them and you probably can’t take your eyes off them. They’re effortlessly attractive and confident. They don’t try so hard to get attention and therefore actually get it. They’re hot but they’re also guys with real substance (also known as Core Values and Career Goals or Passions, Self-Awareness and Self-assuredness. They’re the Ultimate Catch because they’ve gone to war (see above) and were humbled by it.  

Ultimate Catch: Noun. He's hot and he seems like he doesn't know it. Chris Hemsworth is a reigning example in my fantasies.

I can’t say a whole lot more about this phase, because I’m honestly not quite in it yet. I’m getting over my Validation Addiction (upcoming New Year’s Resolution post!) and I’m still evolving my self-worth by learning Not to Ever Compromise Myself (upcoming post!).   

I left out exact time frames, because this will very for everybody. Lots of bullying in a more redneck high school should get one from uglivious to insecure loser rather quickly. I didn’t get there until well into university. If you have good genes and metabolism you might graduate to Making Up for Lost Time and enjoy a prolific 20s as a Player Douche. I got around 3-4 years myself. Now that my evolving self-worth is a work-in-progress, I’m in the transition period to becoming an Ultimate Catch. 

But this is the exciting part for you, faithful readers. You get to join me as I face the final obstacles in the climax of my transformation!

    

How to Stay Fit on a Roadtrip!

For those who learned to see their body as a temple fit for Aphrodite, it was hard enough honing the discipline to hit the gym five times a week and prepare and stick to healthy meals during a busy schedule. Travel is always a challenge, but there’s nothing more catastrophic than a roadtrip through the mid-west and Southern USA. We all know Americans love their food with the rising stats for obesity getting more and more staggering. Fast Food for days and dozens of chains foreign to we Canadians. And it only gets worse in States like Kentucky, Tennessee, Oklahoma and most of Texas, where food-obsessed gluttony are more celebrated than feared. 

Welcome to Midwestern America!

Thus I made it my mission to keep some semblance of my abs before leaving Toronto. By the time I reached my final destination in the Shallow capital of the Universe: that is, gay West Hollywood - I didn't want to be ostracized, where guys wouldn't even touch me with a ten-foot cattle-prod. 

Bryce Abs Day 1: Ohio

Luckily with a little bit of preparation and a healthy dose of restraint, vanity and discipline, staying in-shape on the road isn't as tough as it sounds. Here are five helpful Strategies.

Stock up at the Grocery Store: Bring a cooler, stock up on fresh fruit and produce, pre-made salads and/or pre-cooked meals. If you have a place like My Fit Foods, they sell low-calorie/sugar, high-protein pre-cooked meals you can microwave in any drive-by motel.

Contrary to popular belief this stuff can be eaten on a roadtrip.

Pre-cooked from My Fit Foods. What sleazy motel doesn't have a microwave?

Get a gym membership for the road and actually use it: I chose Planet Fitness. While I’m not a huge fan of their inclusive, anti-bodybuilding hand-holding, Planet Fitness does have an affordable country-country pass and if you cancel before the first month is up, you will be saved the annual charge. 

                         

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They have locations in all major (and more importantly, off the beaten path) cities across the country and with hubs in the suburbs, you don’t have to venture too far off the interstates to get in your workouts. I kept up my routine in Kentucky, Tennessee, Texas, Arizona and California, hitting about 8 gyms in 10 days. 

Troubleshoot the Obstacles: A solo roadtrip is the ultimate form of a heroic quest, and obstacles will be thrown in your way. So overcome them. I already talked above about pre-shopping in grocery stores. But when you run out of protein and need to make a gas station pitstop, be warned.  Clerks will scoff when you ask for healthy options (“Oh you mean like mixed nuts?”) and gas stations in the midwest will think you're crazy that you put milk in your coffee. Buy a carton of skim and add it to your cooler. And ingrain these two words deep inside your gray matter: beef jerky. It won't make you fat and you can get it anywhere.       

"What in God's name is a milkette?"

Pick Your Dietary Battles: You are going to have inevitable moments of weakness. When far away from the big city, your judgmental friends and the competitive dating scene, you might be hit by priority-shifting delusions masquerading as "soul-searching". These voices might tell you "none of this shit matters" or "you look beautiful just the way you are." Whatever you do, ignore the voice inside that says "it's okay to Live a Little." Remember what almost happened to Hansel & Gretel when they lived a little?  

Cookies, pastries, brownies = bad cheats

Thanksgiving Pineapple-glazed ham = good cheat

If you must have a cheat, pick your battles. Resist the Siren's call of carbs and cookies and save your cravings for the good stuff. I had the dietary misfortune of driving through Tennessee during American Thanksgiving - and nothing awakens the hibernating former fatty inside me more than an epic dose of meat and potatoes. No offense to my mom’s home-cooked meals in Canada, but we just don’t serve pineapple-glazed ham, corn pudding and a slice of butter-pecan pie. But because I'd proudly starved myself of eating poorly for a week prior, I earned this one dietary breach. And later in Texas, barbecued red meat is too darn delicious to pass up and pretty much the only thing you can eat outside of Dallas or Austin, so reward yourself.

Vanity is a Virtue: Gyms have mirrors everywhere so take advantage of them. Take self-indulgent photos that bare your abs to keep yourself accountable (and later use as grindr profile pics). If you look sloppy in these pictures, you know you’ve fallen off the boat. 

Bryce Abs Day 6: Dallas, Texas

Bryce Abs Day 10: Palm Springs, CA

So how did it all turn out? By the time I reached LA, my weak moments in Texas and Tennessee had taken only a bit of a toll. Luckily in the city that invented eight-packs and eating disorders, healthy food is right around the corner and actually affordable. I raced to the organic chain Trader Joe’s and managed to stocked up on two-weeks worth of all the greens and lean chicken I’d missed out on for $75. Hello hollywood.

       

The (American) College Life I Never Had

When a geek goes through a physical transformation later in life, he misses out on a quintessential part of coming-of-age. That is the thrill of living the college life. It's kind of like the good parts of high school on steroids. You have more money (RE: student loans) to waste on partying. You think you're more secure in where you're going in life. You're still more popular if you're hotter and richer, but the liberal Mean Girls are slightly less mean. 

The grass seems even greener on the outside when you're Canadian. We grow up hoping (or fearing) high school will be like Mean Girls or Dawson's Creek and college will be like Legally Blonde or Pitch Perfect (insert straighter references for heterosexual readers). You know where vicious cliques divide the populace. The football players and cheerleaders rule the royal popularity hierarchy. You have to do feats of embarrassing danger to prove your worth in the Greek System.

But my college life in an arty Canadian university was so much more tame. People were mostly nice and polite. There weren't any fraternities or the alcohol abuse, exclusivity and sexism we've lovingly come to associate with them. So in a way I feel like I missed out. Well that is until I launched "Are you Hot? the Search for Ryerson's Sexiest Students" and almost got expelled. But another day, another blogpost.

What I wish college was like for me in Canada

What College was like for me in Canada

But when I rolled into Oklahoma I got to live out moments I'd only seen or heard about in college movies. As my hospitable midwestern tour-guides informed me, there's nothing else to do but booze and watch football in OK, so it's like college never ends!

My experience started with a prime view of not just any football game, but a rival match between Oklahoma University (OU) and Oklahoma State. The droves of fans (we're talking a stadium full 80K) came in matching team crimson! They had tribal chants before each kick-off! They had colossal marching bands playing at half-time (and they played the theme to Star Trek)! They had cheerleaders! And they were hot! 

They have official tickets!

They have fans! In matching crimson!

Okay maybe I sound a touch naive, but as a Canadian you sometimes forget how much football pervades the lifeblood of America, from high school onwards. It’s by far the most popular sport, and varsity college is the breeding grounds for 98% of NFL players. I'm not remotely a sports fan, but the spirit in the air made even me want to cheer and for the home team, cause thankfully they weren't wearing orange pants and heinous white cowboy hats.

Right in the thick of the action...

...But I still have no idea how it all works.

Next up I got a tour of the fraternities and how rushing the Greek system really works. You know making pledges, being chosen because you're a rich hot blond or because you're a hot arty homo. They even have a sorority for plumper girls Alpha Gamma Delta and it's motto "Alpha grab a doubnut"!  It all made me feel like I was the ex-Playgirl in House Bunny or like I was trying to study for my L-SATS but getting distracted by shirtless keggers.   

Who I felt like!

It's just like Delta Nu!

Although many Canadian universities do have the Greek system, my campus at Ryerson certainly did not (apparently because Ryerson's Student Union didn't want to support groups that have "a defined or exclusive mandate, rather than inclusive" - how boring is that?!). And besides, I was way too uncool back then to have had a chance at landing in a real frat even we did have them.  

The night concluded with some prerequisite drinks and shenanigans I choose not to speak of because this is a PG-13 blog, after all. And okay, yes, I’ve had drinks in the Canadian equivalent of “Campus Corner”. But when I was in college, I never got to make out with a guy Oklahoma native Carrie Underwood’s ex-boyfriend said “is just so pretty, I can’t take my eyes off of him”. Maybe that’s why they broke up? 

Campus Corner with JC from Lambda Chi "Rammed a Guy"

So after crashing on a frat-house couch in middle-America and waking up with a twisted back and mother of all hangovers, I learned an important life lesson. Sure I was just a Canadian geek who missed out on the All-American jock party life, but I had my own college experience: By rising above the freshman temptations of getting drunk and getting laid to instead get a competitive GPA that would theoretically get me a real job if I didn't go to art school, I'm theoretically better off, right? Err. 

Anyway, while I had a blast during my whirlwind tour of midwestern college life, there are some life experiences it’s best to live vicariously through others!