Devon Hunter

So, if you are ever interested, you can see here how I have discussed an ongoing eating issue. I’m not going to go into it here, and I’m not going to post links, because a lot of that history is embarrassing and painful, and I don’t feel like looking at it right now (especially when I have such good news). If you want to know more on the “back story” of this, you can do a search at the bottom of the page for “anorexia,” “dysmorphia,” or “eating disorder.” I don’t want to dwell on that, so you’ll have to go look it up yourself.

Okay, so I had an “AHA!” right in the middle of starting Part 2 of 13 for the Establishing a Career in Adult Entertainment series (I will do that either today or tomorrow). For quite a while I’ve had zero trouble with eating and remembering to eat. I’ve been enjoying food, and everything has been awesome; however, for the past three weeks I have simply dropped off completely from eating regularly, eating only when other people suggest it. And what was particularly scary yesterday is that I felt empowered and beautiful because of it. NOT GOOD. NOT GOOD AT ALL.

Then I made a series of connections that I can’t believe I never understood before…

When I was nine years old I had two falls one after the other. I fell out of a tree, landed on my back across a root, and knocked the wind out of myself. About two days later I was swinging on some scaffolding at a friend’s house. I was trying to show Jamie some new stuff I’d learned for the high bar at gymnastics, my hands slipped, and a fell across a lower beam, striking the exact same spot in my back. Obviously, I was a bouncing baby boy. Ever since then I have had a vertebral subluxation at the level of Thoracic-6 (T6). You can actually see it: My spine disappears there when you look at me from behind.

This misalignment eventually caused me all sorts of problems as a dancer, and I started seeing a chiropractor in college. College, if you’ll remember, is when my weight was at its lowest: I had gotten down to 111 pounds during my sophomore year (I currently weight almost 150 pounds, so imagine me 40 pounds lighter). It was bad. But in retrospect, I remember always being hungry immediately after an adjustment and finding a way to tolerate the horrendous food at the college cafeteria. Years pass and I now go to my massage therapist on a weekly basis. Every time Ron presses on a certain point in my neck, the action releases the tension in my mid-back, and I get ravenously hungry. Okay, here is where the “AHA!” happens.

Three weeks ago I tweaked my neck/back during sleep, but I also had to cancel both my massage and chiropractor appointments for two weeks in a row. The pain went away, and I thought my vertebrae had moved back into alignment on their own. I didn’t realize I’d stopped eating enough over the course of weeks. Yesterday, as I was about to blog for Part 2, my phone’s alarm went off reminding me to eat prior to working out. I realized I’d not eaten at that point for 28 hours, and that although I had a remote notion of needing food, I wasn’t particularly hungry, the thought of food seemed abhorrent, and I felt as if I’d successfully vanquished the personality flaw of hunger. BAD BAD BAD. I made a point of going to the chiropractor yesterday, because I was feeling out of kilter, and I mentioned my suspicion that there was a connection between my spine, massage, and appetite.

Thoracic-6, the location of my subluxation, is the place where the nerve that feeds the stomach branches off from the spinal cord.

NO!

Yes…

In retrospect I realized that maintaining my back was helping to also maintain my appetite. Being a dancer and a model definitely added to the pressures of looking a certain way and maintaining a certain weight; however, I was aided in my self-destructive behavior by those residual injuries from when I was nine years old. Gymnastics, dance, working out, etc… All of that was knocking my T6 out of alignment all these years! This misalignment alone isn’t responsible for everything that was feeding my self-esteem issues; however, I now have a clear picture of one way that I can make a tangible improvement in all of this.

This is extraordinarily liberating. It is also helpful on a practical level. You see, I don’t (anymore) purposefully avoid eating, and I am not afraid (any longer) of food; however, there are times when I simply don’t get the impulse telling me I’m hungry, and when I’m busy (which is always) I simply forget to eat. I don’t realize I’m hungry, and after all those years of starving I know how to ignore the sensation without realizing I’m doing it. But some hints that I can recognize are the symptoms of hunger: I feel frantic, I can’t concentrate, my moods cascade through hundreds of unrelated and bizarre emotions in a matter of minutes, I get ANGRY over NOTHING, and my hands shake. Yesterday all that was happening, but I was actually resisting eating anyway.

My chiropractor put my back in alignment and within moments I was so hungry that I was afraid. The urgent need to eat hit me so fast and so hard that I almost passed out. I’d gone nearly 30 hours without ingesting anything AT ALL. And there it is: I have to maintain the alignment of my spine. It isn’t a fix for any emotional/psychological issues I have concerning appearance and self-esteem, but it is a practical aid that can remove part of the compounding factors that have caused me a great deal of angst.

Okay, I gotta go eat… later.

I make no secret of the fact that I love Janet Jackson: OMFG ILOVEJANETDAMITAJOJACKSON! OMG!

I think she is one of the most amazing human beings. EVER. I know it’s excruciatingly melodramatic for some of you to bear it, but my eyes water up just typing about her. I admire her for her heart more than anything else, and I have never been a fan who liked her only when she was skinny. I continue to contend with my own eating and body issues (though they trouble me less than in years past, thankfully), so I have never been in a position to judge her on that front. In fact, her new book, “True You” (a self-help book about compassion-for-the-self and attaining-balance-through-setting-sensible-goals), makes me feel even more attuned to her as an artist: All this time when millions of people have thought her stunningly beautiful, she has seen only her “flaws.”

That blows my mind completely out of the water.

But it is EXACTLY the same conversation I’ve been having with myself and with many of the people closest to me over the years. How many times over the decades have I said, “I don’t like (insert perceived flaw),” only to have someone gasp or say incredulously, “But you’re amazing as you are?” It doesn’t matter what someone else tells you, if you don’t believe it. That’s why one of my meditations is: “I am so happy and grateful that I am maintaining or improving, as well as learning to see and appreciate, the beauty in me that so many others already exalt, and that I am humbly luxuriating in that Gift.”

Of all the many quotes I highlighted in Janet’s book, this is the one that sticks out the most for me: “Don’t compare yourself to anyone else. Comparisons are almost always harmful. Comparisons mean there’s a winner and loser – and you’re the one who winds up feeling like a loser.”

True.

I really can’t think of a single instance during my past struggles with Anorexia or Dysmorphia, or my current struggles with feelings of inadequacy in Adult Entertainment, that didn’t grow out of comparison. But I also have to pat myself on the back in retrospect: There have been many situations where I recognized that contests, auditions, competitions, and/or pageants would have done nothing but fuel a fire that was already burning hot enough, so I have mostly avoided them. I don’t win in those types of scenarios: My esteem doesn’t hold under that type of pressure. I am best when I do what I enjoy within its own context. I am most beautiful when I’m allowed to nurture my own sense of presence and style. I fail miserably almost every time I have to “win.” I hate winning. I love excelling. I flourish when I’m allowed to express my “true you,” and I generally get aggressive, defensive, belligerent, or pessimistic when I have to do something that will be judged against something or someone else. It’s one of the reasons that I have never played sports, despite being athletic. It’s the reason I detest gyms, despite being a trainer who works out with a trainer. It’s the reason I am quite content NOT to get nominated for video/escorting/blogging awards – God forbid I should “lose” publicly. I am very happy to leave awards to those with the audacity to sell themselves on Twitter for votes.

I loathe that type of activity. It doesn’t motivate me. It makes me feel inadequate, I cease to try, I don’t “win,” it reinforces why I didn’t want to do whatever it was in the first place, and then I’m left feeling bitter.

That’s why I have to remind myself from time to time, in various ways, that I don’t want or need to “win.” I get an incredible amount of satisfaction from a job well done (whatever I might be doing), and I prefer enjoying the intrinsic value of accomplishment (which cannot be taken), rather than getting accolades from others (which cannot be maintained).

I hope you have discovered, or on the path to discovering, your “true you.” I hope I’m getting closer to that, too. Thank you, Janet, for reminding me to continue growing. (See the response to this in Part 2 and Part 3).

Hello, all!

Here’s the link to the interview I did recently with MOC Blog. If you have any thoughts or responses, feel free to comment either here or at MOC Blog. I am adding this blog to my list of friends, and this link will also be under the Interviews tab at the top of the screen.

“From ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord deliver us.”

We all have our demons. I am definitely not an exception. I still have a particular monster under my bed. (I would say I have a skeleton in my closet, but the door is wide open, and nearly all those have come clattering out onto the floor.) But to stretch this extended metaphor to its breaking point, I will say that I am still haunted.

I have been eating irregularly again.

I thought I’d completely contended with the anorexic tendencies, but they are back. And it helps to talk about it, to examine it, and to get it out of my head. It’s like clearing the cobwebs out of a spooky house. I am eating as I type this, in a bid to reverse the habit that has been coalescing since Sean Cody published my legal name. Over the last several weeks I found myself falling into a familiar thought process: “Oh, it’s too much trouble to eat. I’ll just put it off. What I’m doing at this moment is far more important (plus I’ll look better, too).” That last part is what betrays the underlying problem. The rest of that notion is fairly typical to American workers… but the last part… I have to break this cycle NOW. I have accidentally initiated a process of feast and famine, and it’s wrecking my mood and wellness.

Looking at what might have triggered this, I have to say it’s pretty obvious: My stress levels went up dramatically just before my birthday, and have never really diminished completely. At the exact same time that everything was happening with the gay porn blogosphere in June and July 2010, both Gramma and Dad went into the hospital on my birthday. Dad has recovered, but Gramma has not, and it’s wearing Mom out (who is getting almost no help from her brothers, which is pissing me off more and more). While I was trying to take a break and retreat from everything for a couple weeks, I ended up having to contend with various types of emotional traumas simultaneously, and my response was to stop eating properly (to say nothing of my drinking water and sleeping enough). All of it together has thrown me into a bit of a tailspin, and my sense of happiness and optimism have definitely taken a hard knock. In addition to these factors, the trolls guarding the G4P bridges on the intrawebzes got in some painful licks: It was extremely jarring to have so much homophobia lumped on me by my own people. I admit it: That hurt.

It’s an odd addiction, attention. When I was getting far too much of it, I just wanted it to go away; however, there’s some kind of reality-show-need to maintain it (despite the fact that I didn’t want it in the first place). I feel a little bit like a used car: I’ve been afraid of becoming an obsolete model after having been driven hard by too many reckless drivers. It isn’t that I care specifically about becoming a porn star, but I have been fretting over preventing the prediction of my detractors: I have been trying to stave off their desire for me to fail in my video endeavors. But it isn’t for these anonymous “people” to define my happiness or my success – I have given them a power that isn’t theirs.

And so, as you can see, doing porn is also contributing to this eating situation: I am constantly worrying that I look ridiculous next to my scene partners, that I look utterly disgusting next to their beauty. (But my agent told me that nearly everyone in porn suffers these same insecurities.) Part of the problem in maintaining a strenuous diet is trying to stay in tip top shape constantly, so that I can be ready at a moment’s notice if I get a call for a scene. I haven’t allowed myself enough down time to rest and enjoy food. It’s irritating, because they call when I’ve been enjoying desserts too much for two weeks, but when I am a good boy I don’t hear from them. I had a carb meltdown yesterday and ate half a box of Golden Grahams. Sigh. Watch them call me in three days once the puffiness sets in around my bellybutton…

It was my goal to do 10 scenes. I have already done 11 (nine of them this year, AFTER the bullshit with Sean Cody… so MNAH!), and I feel the need to dig my heels in and remind myself that I am an escort who has done some porn. I’m not a porn model who sometimes escorts. I did what I set out to do. There are now examples of me in a variety of scenarios. Worrying about whether or not I will get more scenes has become too much of a priority. I can check off the porn item on my Adult Entertainment To Do list.

I am going to put the focus back where it belongs: On being happy. And I was happy when I wasn’t worrying about proving something to a bunch of assholes I’ll never meet (thank the Goddess for small miracles). If I continue to do video work, great. And if not, okay. I will accept reasonable video offers for scenes that don’t diminish me as a person or cloud the clarity of my brand, so long as the dates don’t conflict with my travel plans; I will continue spending time with the people who enjoy my company; and I am going to calm this porn noise by reconnecting to a spiritual practice that I have recently neglected.

Besides, I have other concerns: A Greek Orthodox Monk is on his way over to my apartment to talk to me about the plot for a musical he wants to write. And he’s using my poetry to do it. I think that is far more interesting than whether or not I’m given the nod of approval from a group of rampant consumers who are impossible to please.

Speaking of rampant consumers: I’m hungry. I’m going to go eat some more. I’m making a conscious effort to exorcise this demon.

Well, where to begin??? As always, too much to do in too little time; however, I prefer being overwhelmed to being bored ANY DAY. I have to say it: I entertain myself pretty well. What with all my projects and drama, there’s never a dull moment, eh?

Okay, so it’s time to start getting ready for the summer. This is going to be a time of change for me. Literal physical change. My exclusive contract with Sean Cody will run out at the end of May, 2010, and my friends at Fabscout (whom I don’t believe I’ve mentioned until now) are is hopefully going to be keeping me pretty busy with a variety of gay video projects. One of the many aspects I have enjoyed with Fabscout so far is their unrelenting expectation that their models use condoms. I wouldn’t continue on with the porn if I thought I’d be expected to do bareback scenes.

What does this mean in terms of going to the next level? Well, I am going to workout with my trainer an extra day each week during the next few months, and I have restarted a system of very clean and high quality supplements by Cellucor (I will be doing the Lean Muscle Growth system). I know some of you will see some red flags in this, because of what I have said in the past about anorexia and Dysmorphia; however, there are videos on Cellucor that explain how the supplements work. I also want you to know that I am approaching this from the perspective of healthy, sustainable gains, not obsessive or exaggerated notions about my shape. Also, I am keeping the word “supplement” firmly in my mind: I am definitely eating (I just polished off a whole box of couscous with two chicken breasts, 1/8 yellow bell pepper, a cup of fresh spinach, and a handful of cherry tomatoes… and I’m still hungry. My baby gotta eat!).

Don’t worry: I AM EATING. I’m just getting polished up. Always remember, my little ones: Pain is temporary… Video is forever!!

I am not so worried about getting help with body fat – I have been trying to monitor refined carbs (CHOCOLATE!!!! xoxoxo I love you, and I miss you dearly… we shall meet again soon one day…), and I’m confident I can manage that on my own. But what I am preparing for right now is to do some photoshoots in the coming weeks and video shoots beginning at some point in June. I gotta get my sexy on in a hurry!

OMG… I have to hang with the Big Fellas again… I really do hope this isn’t Swinging Richards all over again. I’m not feeling (in terms of social mores) any conflict about this, and once I get some fine tuning done on the chassis I think my confidence will be just fine. I am excited at the idea of working with models who are gay. No matter what, that has got to make filming easier than what I did last summer: I really don’t dig working with Paysexual dudes. They’re pretty to look at sometimes, but the ladies can have them, thanks very much.