I struggled with coming to terms with the fact that my dream of being a session guitarist in Nashville was completely ruined. I was afraid of what people thought about me; that I was nothing more than “washed up” or “mediocre at best,” or worst of all, that I was a “failure.” Sure, I looked like I was getting better, but inside I was a complete wreck.

I struggled to understand how a man could lust for my soul, crave my words, and submerge himself into my spirit. This struggle was much deeper than I wanted to acknowledge - it transformed into an inability to separate positive body image from a man's desire for me. It dwarfed my potential to give myself fully into a loving relationship and instead, lead me into dangerous encounters & recurring heartbreak.

At one point in my life, I was the cliche. Plain and simple, I wanted to be the woman in the magazine. To me, her life seemed so simple. She appeared: still, content, and beautiful...It wasn't until I actually made friends with many models that I realized: their lives weren't idyllic.

I think the spirit of performance and comparison is what I battled with the most. Since our culture tells you, “Your manliness is measured by the muscles on your body,” I always felt like I was robbed of my male identity.

Having a positive image of my body and myself has been a struggle for me for a long time, and continues to be an everyday challenge. Growing up in the music industry, you are expected to look a certain way and to maintain a certain image. From a young age, I was taught to always have my nails, hair, makeup, and outfit “on point.”

My lowest point throughout all of this had to have been the initial breakdown, and wanting to finally make a change. It wasn't dramatic or anything, I just got tired of seeing who I saw in the mirror. In my opinion, people can be too over-dramatic when they are unhappy with themselves, yet they do nothing.

After my Junior Year of High School I went to both a USC football camp, and a Fresno State football camp. People kept saying how I had “good size and strength.” My dad and I began to train in a brand new way and I had a very dominant season. I accepted who I was as a “big boy” and I began to say to myself that I was, “a beautiful creation,” no matter what the world said.

I have struggled with anorexia and exercise addiction since the age of 14. (I'm now 35.) So negative body image has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.

I hated how I looked in the mirror; the fact that I had no muscle, the fact I was out of shape, that I had a stomach that stuck out more then my chest, that my thighs were big – stuff that we are told are only things girls worry about, not something a guy does...

Where did all of this begin?

It was that month… that short month where close to 15 different friends of mine, (unprovoked, I might add,) voiced their struggle for a positive self image...