What It Means to Be Perfect

I was 22 years old when I decided to take Finasteride for my emerging hair loss. I took it at the recommendation of a friend saying that I should do something about it before it got worse. I was a very health-conscious person from a young age; my family was not the healthiest and I always saw food as our drug of choice. I come from a family of addicts, so I took eating and exercise very seriously. I had trained in the gym well over 7 years by the time I took finasteride, I was an avid lifter, runner, and had been eating Keto for over 2 years at that point. My mission was to be the best version of me I could be, not in a toxic way but in an achievable personal way. I wanted to be mobile and have my memory intact into my old age so I could pass what I knew down.

I took finasteride for what I admit now could be seen as an embarrassing reason. In the world of looksmaxxing and all this other maxxing shit we need to do a better job of reminding men what it means to be enough. What does it really mean to be a "perfect" man or a "good" man in this day and age. I grew up with a family that would find your imperfections and remind you about them every day, I worked on them and worked on them thinking if I was "perfect" they would run out of things to say.

Day in and day out I studied and trained trying to make myself criticism proof, I often fantasized about a world where I was in the woods living alone where I could just be. Just be whatever creature I was in peace. What hurts worse is when criticisms come from those who are close, partners, and friends, and so on. After a particularly dramatic break up I was told by my partner about my hair loss as a joke. I got to admit it hurt since this person was special to me and I thought she had the capacity to just leave in silence, but instead she went on a hate campaign to get her "revenge". I guess she got what she wanted and then some.

This drug has made it hard to just forget all of it since my body is quite literally stuck. I wake up every day, memory cooked, all I can remember is what I knew prior to 2019, everything else is like aftertaste. Life is aftertaste, no flavor, just hints of what used to be. It has been 6 years and the only thing keeping me on earth is defiance.

I grew up in a small town, no prospects, a difficult family situation, and a dream of living better through responsibility and better habits. I am 100% convinced that if I was not as health conscious prior to taking finasteride, I would have taken my own life. I meditated, panicked, sweated all night and hung on for dear life.

I am sharing my story in this way to just remind young men, especially ones without present fathers, that once a relationship is over to block, run and leave as fast as possible. A man will punch you in the face and you will recover, but a woman will go the depth of hell to have their vengeance on you, echoes of suffering from someone hurt by the goings of life. The best part of it all is she is off living her life, having new experiences acting like nothing ever happened, nothing, she got to move on and here you are carrying weight.

I wish I could have gone back in time and told myself that I am here to be a human, a bald, deformed, short, tall, crooked, human. If you value your memories, your happiness, athletics or anything of the sort do not take this drug, it was sold to me as a 0 risk medication and it ruined my prospects in life.