FINNCOCK
 
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blog #1

body image and the difficulty of self-love after trauma

By Finncock

We all have issues with our body. Even those who seemingly have the most perfect bodies, the perfect specimens of human kind that are doing everything they can to achieve perfection, whether it be working out in the gym, watching their diets religiously or altering themselves through plastic surgery… they all have a weak spot. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t work so hard. But how much of that “problem” they have is their own, and how much of it is a problem we all face in modern society? How much of it is the ramification of life experiences, how much the fault of impossible ideals imposed by the media, fashion industry and expectations of others? And how much of what we think is actually what we think?

I’d be first to admit that I do not have the perfect body. I do not have ab definition that all “proper” models or porn stars (for the most part) are seemingly supposed to have. I've never had a perfectly proportioned body and I suspect I never will. I got certain gifts at birth, like my strong legs and calf muscles. They are big and masculine and I've never had to work a day to get them. And I am not saying that to brag. Quite the contrary because most part of my life I have hated my entire lower body. I don't have especially wide shoulders so to me, an artist well aware of the “perfect proportion,” it just seemed that my body was compiled of parts that didn’t quite match. Of course, if you train, you can build muscle, create the body you want. The problem is, I have never been big on building muscle (that’s my choice) and I really learned to hate exercise in school. My interests were always different: I read a lot, I started to write poetry and prose early, I started to paint. I don’t need big muscles to do any of that. I only need my vision and that is something that you can’t see.

There is a lot that goes into healthy self-esteem (and what can hinder from it) and body image as you will soon find out as I will share some personal experiences and lessons I have learned.

The first part of my life, up to 13 years of age, I was very slim, skinny even. Then things started to go wrong. My family was struggling financially after we lost our business and home. My father was unemployed and he started drinking heavily (although it began much earlier but I wasn’t witnessing it then on a daily basis as he worked as a traveling salesman). When he started to drink more he became emotionally abusive and when he didn’t drink (rarely) he was “nowhere to be found”: in the bedroom, reading, away from the family. He never paid any real attention to me or what I did unless it was to force me to be interested in something he was interested in. Which to me translated as: he wanted to change me. And of course he pushed things on me when I was least receptive: when he was drunk, in a state of unpredictability and his volatile and emotionally abusive cruel behavior signaled danger to me.

When we moved I needed to adapt to a new school and try to build new friendships since I lost all my friends. I was alone a lot, not simply because I was the only child and had learned to entertain myself, but because I was now the outsider in a new environment. Everyone else in my class had known each other since they were small kids. Because I proved to be an artistic sensivite soul, I was an easy target for bullying. So they bullied, for five long years they were in my back every chance they could get, in school, after school, you name it.

To cope with all of the above, without even realizing it at the time, I started to use food to get some sort of feel good in my life. At first it wasn't a problem but as I was reaching puberty, my metabolism started changing, hormones were running wild and I was on constant fight or flight mode due to everything: there was no place I could feel safe. So, eventually, my eating habits made me gain weight and in one year I went from a skinny kid to a fat teenager.

Prior, at the age of 8, I had been in a car accident and until I was 17 and almost anorexic due to barely eating anything at all, I went through six 6 surgeries on my left leg. I have the scars to remind me, both inner and outer. Children can be cruel and I was called by names I don’t care to repeat, simply for having an injury I could do nothing about. And I can still, vividly, remember my knee failing me in the garden, dragging my body across the lawn to the back door, calling dad for help. The dog had run out and I had been trying to catch it while it all happened. My knee caps went out of place repeatedly during those years. Dad got angry and made no attempt to hide it, or help me. He cared not for the pain I was in, he cared about the dog running free. Somewhat understandable but he could have handled things differently. It was a double insult as my body had failed me (again) and dad took care of the emotional neglect.

I knew I was never the boy he really wanted. I was an artist on the verge of discovering I was gay. The very opposite of all macho he wanted to project.

Being gay in itself added another layer to my body image issues. While to every group of people a great body is a hot commodity in the gay community the male body of perfect proportions is celebrated to the highest of degrees. While there are subcultures, and men who are into different body types and gay men themselves come in all forms looks and sizes, the majority still seems to celebrate eternal youth and god-like masculinity or they are fighting nail and tooth to get there. Simply because without it you are not what the flesh market wants.

Women have been confronted with images, magazine articles and adverts of how they should be from day one. They have shaped their bodies throughout ages to match the standard of what has been deemed desirable. As I got into my 20s, I witnessed how magazine advertising started to change. Men were now being portrayed like women in ads, presented more or less as a piece of meat. Alluring displays of perfect physique on every perfume underwear or whatever ad. As cool as it was for a young gay guy to see half-naked men on magazines, it added another layer to the already pre-existing condition: be that image, have that body.

And of course, I had the worse case of acne in my late teens and early 20s so seeing all those gorgeous perfect guys and then looking into the mirror felt like a slap in the face. The worse part about having acne was this: if it happened to get near the soft skin under my eye or close to my lips it would become a nightmare. My eye would get swollen shut, my lip would look out of shape. Like someone had punched me. I rarely looked people in the eyes when I walked outside. I wanted to be invisible. The perfect opposite of how I really am because I usually never flinch from direct eye contact. But when the acne was in full bloom, and it was for years, I felt unbelievably ugly and completely unattractive. The antithesis of handsome. I truly hated my reflection.

The acne raged on my face and shoulders for years, leaving a multitude of scars behind, some done by me: I hated it so much I cut the forming zits open with a clipper. Gross, I know. But that was the extend of my self-loathing and my fear of them spreading across my face. I just had to get them before they got me. Fast-forward to today: I still freak out every time I see a zit. And I still avoid touching my face, especially the eye area, so I do not carry any unwanted bacteria there. I do this even though it’s been decades since I had the last breakout and I don’t assume to get one in the future. The fear of how it was still resides in me and every time my skin starts to react to stress, I simply want to scream.

All my life I have struggled to love my body. I wasn’t happy even when I reached 68 kg (I’m 180 cm tall) and my ribs were showing. That was in my thirties. I almost starved myself to get there, went to the gym 5 days a week, walked 10 kilometers every day to sweat everything off, watched my diet religiously. But the main issue I had still remained. This was really not about the body. And when it comes to the body, bones just don’t shrink. I couldn’t build enough shoulders, I couldn’t lose my big calves, I had wider hips in proportion. If we go into more private areas such as cock size, I struggled with that too. I certainly didn’t think it was huge. Every man wonders about their size at some point and we all look at other guys to see where we land. After all the big phallus is the perceived throne of masculinity. While not every guy is unhappy with their size, I have yet to hear a guy say they wouldn’t want that extra inch if they could get it.

So… whether it was being verbally abused by my father or being bullied/ridiculed by a school mate or dealing with my own physical imperfections or mental stress from all of the above, it made me fill every cell of my being with the fear of not being enough. I allowed partners to continue the cycle of abuse because I was too consumed by all forms of previous abandonment and because I was so in need of love. If I had only loved myself enough to not go there. But at the time, I didn't realize that I only needed to be good enough for me. The opinions of others do not matter. The nasty words people say bounce away from healthy self-esteem. If you do not have it, you take in all the bad and all compliments bounce off of you simply because you can't take them in.

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Stress and trauma can have dire consequences to your health. Your conscious mind, subconscious mind and your physical body work together. It’s a well oiled interconnected intelligent machine.

The severity of trauma can vary from extreme physical, sexual or emotional abuse to feelings of neglect to some one liners someone once threw at you. Someone you considered a valid source of information. After all that takes over your subconscious, eventually you start to believe them as truth and you keep repeating it to yourself. And you will project it outside, to other people’s thoughts of you. It will affect the way you view the world and everyone around you. And it will go on until you learn to unlearn what you have digested.

The more of the same you get the more unsafe you feel and the more unsafe you feel the more you allow it to affect you mentally and subsequently, physically. It’s a vicious cycle. The negativity flows within you until you are ready to realize the core truths: you can change things, nothing is permanent, you can understand it, you can learn to forgive, you can let go. Most of all, you need to forgive yourself because while others may have done you wrong, you turned what they did to you into a home and gave it the energy to live beyond.

Before you get there, however, it is still quite possible you might go through depression of some degree or even an outbreak of physical ailments that can be traced to your trauma. Your bucket got full because your body’s intelligent capacity to remove the inner toxic environment was no longer enough. It’s just that when the bucket gets full, it gets full, no matter what age you may be. And for many people, especially those that have experienced trauma in their childhood, the bucket gets full as an adult. Something unwanted happens that finally tips the scales. All this because your temple was infested by other people’s junk. Something that never belonged to you. Your body, your subconscious did their best and found a way to cope and it worked for as long as it did. It pushed your hurting child deep down so you could endure whatever you had to go through. You might have taken roles from being a caretaker to being an overachiever, from being the mediator to being the people pleaser. Through reading about children that grow up in abusive homes, I learned I had taken all four roles. I had also shut down my senses. Isolated myself. I always wondered why I felt so alone growing up. It wasn’t that I was always alone but rather I had shielded myself to a point that I was disconnected from everybody else, and most significantly, other parts of myself. My being had become fragmented, my memory and experience of life compartmentalized.

When you arrive at the gates of adult life, your childhood coping mechanisms stop working. It is then that you must learn to acknowledge your past is still working in the present and realize you have the power to change it. You are no longer a helpless child. You are a capable adult, the master of your own destiny and the designer of your life. There are many ways you can work through trauma but the first step is to read about what you went through so you truly understand in a more profound way. You know what happened to you, from your experience - but do you know what it truly did to you? This is why reading up is so important. Then, you must stop being silent. When you open up your mouth to speak, you must be ready for some resistance. Not everyone in your circle or family will be ready for the truth of your experience because they have their own experience and it might be the perfect opposite of yours or they might be in denial about what they have too experienced. But when you open up, you will find out there are many like you. You feel less alone. One of the things learned in abusive homes is the masterful skill of covering it all up. Therefore part of the healing process is to speak up and stop apologizing for your experience. But to heal and not get stuck on victim mode or anger mode (which is another inevitable part of the process) you must take concrete steps. It may require a leap of faith, something you have a problem with. But you can do it. Just take a deep breath and start somewhere. Remember who you are doing it for. It’s time to love yourself.

By now you should see the connection between self-esteem, trauma and body issues and how complex and deep and raw the true root causes can sometimes be that simply manifest as discontentment about oneself. It is not to say that every person who has ever had a body image issue has gone through severe trauma. As I mentioned in the beginning it can be a small thing. Subconscious can turn a small thing into a huge problem.

Truly loving yourself is allowing yourself to be who you are and embracing it. It’s about putting in the work required for your own well-being, whatever form that may be. And doing it not for the sake of popularity or your partner or whoever expects you to be a certain way. You need to do it for one reason only: you deserve to be loved and accepted by you. Whether you’re struggling with body image, emotional trauma, physical ailments or defects, you know you can be your worst enemy. Don’t be that enemy. Be your best friend. It won’t be easy to stop beating up on yourself but down the line you will thank yourself for finally saying no.

If I’ve learned anything in life it’s this: someone will always dislike you or envy you for what you have or what they don’t have, they will downright hate you and it has nothing to do with you. It’s all about their insecurity. Similarly other people will look at you and think you are great-looking or talented or whatever and those things might not be how you see yourself. They may very well love the things you hate most about yourself or they feel attracted to something you are not even aware of.

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Today I work a lot with nude self-portraits and when I view photos I’ve taken of myself, I won’t deny, I still sometimes cringe. I still struggle with my body but I’m learning to embrace it and love it. And Finncock has become one of tools I use to achieve that place of self-acceptance and celebration of my carnal and spiritual self. I try not to say bad things to myself because I know in the end I only hurt myself. But at times it gets harder to silence the voices and you get slightly paralyzed. I’m confident but not free of insecurity. I don’t think any of us ever truly is. And it’s ok too. Just remember to rebuke those thoughts as soon as you are aware of what you are doing and replace them with more positive affirmations.

I may get fatter, it may get slimmer. I may start to work out more. I may do nothing. For the sake of my back which has started to act up due to permanent damage I received from the 80’s car accident, I should definitely work out a bit more. But I know no matter what I do I will most likely never be comparable to any pumped up model or big time pornstar out there. But do I need to be? I think I just need to be me and those who get me, understand me and feel inspired by me, will gravitate towards me and my body of work naturally.

There is not a single person on earth that has never had a bad thought about themselves or felt discontentment or disappointment in themselves, one way or another. Just make sure you don’t move to that place willingly because you are perfect the way you are. You can try and achieve a better version of yourself but do it for the right reasons, not the ones thrown at you by those trying to make a quick sale on your insecurity. Or lift themselves up by putting you down. Love your body. Love your imperfections. Heal your wounds by actively looking for answers, reading, meditating, counseling, group meetings, exercises, whatever works for you.

You owe no apologies or explanations for loving yourself and seeking your own well-being no matter how you choose to go about it. It is the greatest love you can give yourself.

You are enough. As you are, as you were and as you will be in the future.

We are more than our bodies and our fat percentage.

 
 
 
 
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BLOG #2

THE FASCINATION OF SEX AND porn

By Finncock

I guess I first came across porn when I was something between the age of 7 and 10. When I was growing up I shared a house with my father's siblings and when they all moved out I went through their rooms and closets and subsequently found a porn magazine someone had left behind. It could have been my father’s too. I don’t really know.

What I do know is that finding them remains a vivid memory. I laid on the floor, on top of my huge teddybear (funny in itself) and flipped through it. I was of course a virgin at the time. I hadn’t even been kissed. What I remember most is that I never paid any attention to the women in the images. My eyes went straight for the men.

I'm not sure if it was the consequence of seeing said magazine but around the same time I dragged my best friend into our garage. Oily scent filled my lungs as I leaned to kiss him in the dim light. The kiss was... well. Wet. That covers it. We were both just children. But why I dragged a boy in there and not one of my many girl friends? I guess the reason is the same as why my eyes went for the nude men in the magazine spreads. As gay as they come, I have always been exclusively attracted to men.

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It's interesting to remember moments from your childhood that clearly show I was totally gay from the start yet somehow "forgot" it later and tried to be like everyone else. Maybe it was just peer pressure, me trying to fit in and avoid bullying, or just the messages society sent at large.

When the puberty hit and I found the pleasures of masturbation it was all about one school mate of mine. I had a crush on him even though he was one of my bullies. How painful and twisted if you think about it. Masochistic even. But he was a looker, curly hair, full luscious lips. Way more manly than any other boy in my class. He played hockey. And of course in the crossing of those strong thighs he had a big bulge. It was a sight to behold and I cherished that sight at midnight hours.

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As I confessed in my first blog post, at the age of 17 when I started buying gay magazines and gay films I thought it would be fun to do some nude modeling. Porn, if I think about the material I was looking at, let’s be honest. Shortly after I started exploring my own body through photography. There were no digital cameras or cell phones back then. It was still the days you had to develop paper images and wait a week to find out if all images were blurry. I thought of submitting myself to a porn magazine but I was still underage so I never ended up doing nude modeling or porn.

Until now. 

Of course even now I've only done solo work. I'm not ruling out other type of films and/or erotic photography projects with men, or any type of other erotic work for that matter, but I realize that my interest in porn as well as the things I do as Finncock demands a lot from the people in my life. Or I should say they need to be open about sex, sexuality and the world of erotica in general. And however free I may be when I am emotionally involved with someone, sex is a very serious thing for me. So the best chance for me to do man on man porn would be to do it with the person I am with. So I try to balance what my kinky self would do (and there's barely any limits to what he wouldn't) and what I should not do at any given moment, depending on my relationship status. As a porn viewer I smell fake miles away and being fake is something I am the least interested in.

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Every man watches porn. He who says they never do are liars. Even the most religious people do it, they just try to hide that they do…

I watch porn quite often and not solely gay porn either. Why? Frankly speaking sometimes I want variety. And sometimes I find gay porn just too clean and sterile for my taste. If it’s too clinical, it becomes a turn-off. The films I find arousing, that I go back to, have a certain type of authenticity to them. There's clear chemistry and genuine pleasure there. At the very least honest lust if nothing else. Then again men don’t need to be romanced when they watch porn. Just get that dick in, give a good pounding and we’re good. And show that shit. Camera work in a lot of porn, even the more profession productions is downright insulting. Most porn stars are also entirely shaved and while I don’t have anything against shaved guys, I prefer a bit of fur. Just about everybody is muscular or too muscular and fit the same bill or stereotype. At least in the so-called mainstream porn. I like a bit of kink I guess. I want to see that hot connection two guys can have when they have sex. Seeing that chemistry turns me right on but most films don’t have it.

I am a strong personality. I usually like to be in charge in life. Even when I can’t be. So bed (or any equivalent place for sex) is the place and moment when I can relinquish some of that control, or exercise it for that matter. It takes a strong and sexually confident man to embrace my energy. In all honesty though, I fall on the submissive side, even if I can top too.

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Pornography divides people. To some, it’s like a curse word. And I get that, some porn can look and be very degrading. But porn stars are still people who do it willingly. Nobody is forcing them to fuck on film and while life can take all kinds of turns within the adult industry most actually do the work because it pays well and they enjoy doing it. No matter what some people will always see porn as a dirty business, something shameful and sad, while others see it as something fun, exciting and good for your sexual health. I guess there are enough studies that both of those statements can be true. But same goes for your food consumption.

I am very sex positive and very porn positive person. For me doing erotic films and pornography is a way to express my sexuality and release my sexual energy in a creative and positive way. It goes out with a message: enjoy yourselves. I see nothing wrong with enjoying or doing pornography. I view the human body as art, therefore I see the use of that body as art. I am well aware that most people wouldn’t say so. But it can be. What I try to accomplish with my films is bring an artistic visual to the story. A masculine and even poetic element of pleasure. The experience of pleasure is a beautiful thing, one of the many brilliant things our bodies can do that directly fills us with feel good chemicals.

The internet is full of free porn. You got porn sites to match every taste, like and desire. I also get that guys don't need much inspiration when they just quickly want to bust a nut. Sometimes I am that guy. But most of the time I'm a little different in that regard: I can have sex for hours (and not talking about just jacking off here). I like to extend my pleasure. I simply truly and thoroughly enjoy sex and it makes me feel good. That is what I want for you too.

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While internet is full of free porn, it’s often the previously mentioned rather predictable and somewhat clinical porn, or it’s amateur jerk-off, bareback, cum shot videos taken in a rush of the moment. Whatever works. But I've yet to see someone do it like I do it.

My videos are not quick masturbation videos. They are more like sex marathons. And I take pride in that. I put a lot of effort into making my films the way they are, shooting them the way I do, editing them, creating my own music to play in the background, doing voiceovers if necessary. But even more than that I genuinely and thoroughly enjoy the filming process. I do the work alone so needless to say, producing my videos take a junk of my time. This is why my porn films aren't free. Even porn stars get a paycheck before their film is released.

In a world of free porn, porn is a hard item to sell. But if you want something slightly different and would like to support my work and ensure I keep doing erotic films, I suggest you head over to https://www.finncock.com/shop and get a copy of This Is Our Garden (an erotic film) or Finncock: Special Delivery (solo porn film).

I conclude this blog post with a comment a viewer has given me. And lucky for him and me, I got him off.

I don't usually even watch masturbation videos but I can't take my eyes off of you jerking that cock. It's HYPNOTIC.

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