It’s been eye-opening for me to watch these men become hyper-aware of their bodies. My own body issues were brought on by the realisation, at a very young age, that I was no longer just a kid; rather, I was becoming a girl kid, and getting a glimpse at the amount of baggage that comes with being a girl was overwhelming for me. But I wasn’t alone in that. Though I felt alone, when I talk to other women, even women with whom I grew up, it turns out they all felt off as well. We all felt wrong, somehow. I've bonded with women over the horrifying childhood rituals we enacted in the hopes of looking "perfect."

The guys I’m friends with now went through childhood feeling mostly okay (though I recognise that plenty of men did have body issues as kids). But now that these guys are firmly settled into their late 20s and early 30s, it’s creeping up on them. When I ask what happened, they say something about feeling their virility being sapped by time. They are scared of going from being a man to being an older man — viewed as a sexless piece of furniture by the rest of the world. They say they’re starting to see their appearances and their value as linked in a very real way. And this is jarring — to them, and to me.

These men go on hikes, they get facials, they find new ways to fix their hair (yes, I live in L.A.), and over brunches, they talk to me about not feeling good enough. They use a lot of the same words that I’ve used in my diary, with my girlfriends, and even in this essay. They feel helpless, and angry that they feel helpless. They feel upset that they can’t have pancakes. I can only sympathise. It’s helped me understand that the great "not good enough" hits us all — maybe at different times, and maybe from different directions. But none of us are immune. So I try to talk to my male friends about accepting themselves as they are and appreciating what their bodies can do, rather than focusing on all the things their bodies are not doing. We empathise with each other and trade ideas for healthy snacks that don’t taste terrible. When I hang with my women friends, however, we talk about movies, ideas for businesses, and relationship stuff — because we’ve moved on from such banal talk as body image.

What my guy friends’ struggles have done for me is helped me to realise that this whole thing really is a ferris wheel of never-ending need. We are all together in this. Cultural expectations, self-esteem, the process of ageing...there are a million things that make us feel not okay. And it’s our job as people to find ways to fight back against those things — to like ourselves despite the onslaught.

Last week, I watched my guy friend watch a bunch of young men skateboarding on the sidewalk near the cafe where we were eating. The boys were young, carefree, foul-mouthed, and gorgeous in their slouched insolence. They pulled up their shirts to wipe the sweat from their faces, showing us their tiny abs. My friend watched them sadly. Then, he looked down and pushed away the rest of his brunch. I patted him consolingly. I knew exactly how he was feeling.