By a guy who also keeps his shirt on at the beach
There’s a special kind of anxiety that creeps in around June. It’s not about unpaid bills, job deadlines, or even the crushing knowledge that we’re all aging faster than we think. No, this one’s different. It’s the quiet panic of realizing summer is here and someone, somewhere, will expect you to take off your shirt.
Let me be real. I don’t hate my body, but I don’t love it either. I’m somewhere between “meh” and “don’t look too long.” And I know I’m not the only one. For a lot of guys, summer isn’t just about BBQs, football shorts, and day parties. It’s also about dodging the beach trip, pretending to forget swim trunks, and perfecting the art of the sleeveless compromise.
We talk a lot about women and summer body pressure and we should. But there’s a quieter pressure on men that barely gets air time. We’re expected to be shredded, tanned, hairless, and dripping with a kind of carefree confidence that only exists on cologne ads and fitness influencers’ reels.
The truth? A lot of us don’t look like that. And we feel it.
Shirtless Season is a Lie
Let’s break the myth. “Shirtless season” isn’t an actual event. There’s no formal declaration. No one sends out a memo saying, “Time to show the abs, gents.” But somehow, once the temperature climbs past 30°C, it’s as if every man with a torso is expected to show it off like it’s part of the weather report.
There’s a false confidence we’re supposed to project. You know the type: the guy with the six-pack, gold chain, and loud laugh, standing around the grill like it’s a stage and he’s the main act. Good for him. But that’s not everyone’s vibe.
For some of us, summer feels like a trap. If we wear a shirt, we’re accused of being insecure or uptight. If we take it off, we risk being judged or made the punchline in someone’s group chat. We can’t win.
Summer Shame is Quiet, But It’s Loud Inside
Unlike women, who at least get to have open conversations around body image, guys tend to bottle it. We joke our way around it. We call ourselves “dad bod kings,” pretend we’re just too lazy for the gym, or blame it on “bulking season” that’s lasted three years too long.
But behind the jokes, a lot of us carry quiet shame.We remember that one time someone commented on our chest hair. Or that moment a friend jokingly poked our belly. Or worse, the way we compared ourselves to others and didn’t measure up. These moments stack up. By the time summer rolls around, we’ve got enough mental baggage to check into a resort.
And let’s not even talk about social media. Every scroll reminds us we’re not enough. Not ripped enough. Not lean enough. Not carefree enough. But here’s the thing: we’re not supposed to admit that we care. That’s the unwritten rule of masculinity, pretend it doesn’t bother you, even when it eats you alive.
The Male Body Image Gap
Here’s a stat no one talks about: men struggle with body dysmorphia too. Not just a few millions. But because of stigma and pride, very few ever seek help or speak up. We’re taught to tough it out, laugh it off, hit the gym, or drink another beer and let it go.
But hitting the gym doesn’t always fix it. Sometimes, it feeds the problem. We overtrain, obsess over macros, and never feel “ready.” The six-pack becomes a moving target. The goalpost shifts. And no matter what we look like, there’s always someone fitter, leaner, more “ideal.”
That’s the trap.
So What’s the Fix?
Let me start by saying I don’t have all the answers. I’m still figuring it out. But here’s what’s helped:
- Dress how you feel good, not how you’re told to. Some guys feel powerful shirtless. Others feel better in a loose tee. Both are valid.
- Watch your language, especially when talking to yourself. Cut the self-roasting. Your brain listens.
- Unfollow accounts that mess with your head. You know the ones. The perfect lighting, the endless abs, the “just worked out but still smiling at 5 a.m.” crowd.
- Talk to your guys. You’d be shocked how many of your boys feel the same way but are waiting for someone else to say it first.
- Eat the damn burger. Life’s too short to count calories at a cookout.
Summer Should Be About Freedom, Not Judgment
You know what I envy? Those uncles at the beach who let their belly hang proudly while dancing to loud afrobeats with zero shame. That’s power. Not the abs, not the silence, not the hustle for the perfect physique, but the freedom to show up exactly as you are, and still dance.
We all deserve that kind of confidence. That kind of release. That kind of self-love.
And I get it, some of us are working on it. That’s okay too. Just know you don’t need to arrive at some mythical “final form” to belong in the sun. You’re already worthy of joy, movement, fun, and yes, even a pool day.
I Just Have to Mention…
While we’re here, let’s talk about the other summer cliché: the “Grill King.” The dude who turns every cookout into a performance
I Just Have to Mention…
Apron on. Tongs in hand. Chest out. Beer close. He’s a walking stereotype and many of us lean into it because it gives us cover. It says, “I’m useful. I belong here. I don’t have to swim or dance or be vulnerable. I’m the guy with the fire.”
It’s a whole vibe. But also, maybe it’s time to ask if we’re hiding behind the smoke.
Because when the grill shuts down, and the beer’s gone warm, we’re still left with ourselves and the question of whether we’re showing up fully, or just performing the role we think makes us safe.
There’s nothing wrong with grilling, by the way. I love a good meat flip. But don’t let it be the only part of summer you participate in. Join the water fight. Sing off-key. Dance badly. Be loud. Be present. You’re allowed.
Final Thoughts From a Shirt-On Kind of Guy
I’ll be honest: I still hesitate. I still reach for the oversized tee. I still suck in my stomach in photos. But I’m learning not to apologize for it. I’m learning that self-acceptance isn’t about becoming fearless, it’s about being honest, soft, and a little bit rebellious in a world that tells us to be tough and quiet.
If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt like summer wasn’t made for you, I see you.
It is.
You just don’t have to play it like everyone else. So whether you’re shirtless or not, sun’s out. Step out too.
