One ad. That’s all it took.

The ad sprawled across two pages. A tropical cove. The dude sprawled across the ad like Mufasa on Pride Rock, glistening, radiating testosterone and raw virility. He laid casually in his boat, arm thrown behind his head. His slick black hair shined brighter than Sirius. His obliques were like slabs of granite. His chin could have broken cinder blocks. His package could have belonged to Thor.

So there I sat on my bunk at summer camp, thumbing through the pages of GQ. A friend hopped up and joined me. At the moment, I was intently studying said image. “What are you looking at?” the friend asked.

“Uhh.”

He glanced at the page and burst into laughter. Not a jovial, happy laugh. A malicious laugh. It was unnerving. He called over a couple other of my friends over to take a gander at the ad. And, predictably, they snidely chuckled. The week went on, and I continued to get untold amounts of crap. Several people suggested I [perform certain unspeakable act] to the ad or bring back food from dinner so I could feed it. And cuddle with it. I would walk into the barracks and approach a friend sitting down stony-faced, but upon my arrival he would put on a goofy expression and whip out the ad. It became a running joke.

Ever since that camp, maybe two years ago, I realized something. Even if you are 100-percent straight, you will be on the receiving end of merciless mockery if you do anything remotely unmanly. It’s not infuriating, but it’s slightly nagging. It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it matters an inordinate amount.

I should reiterate that this applies only to men. While women dabble in anything they please, men can ill afford to show any signs of a specific weakness, a lack of complete and utter machismo. Such as looking at a guy in a magazine slathered in banana oil. To illustrate my point: I have a friend. We’ll call him Larson Gunn for kicks. I say something vaguely feminine in his presence like “Mean Girls was a quality movie” or “well, Accords do get excellent gas mileage” or “I could really go for a salad right now,” and Larson sends a look of disbelief my way and punches my arm like Hyde from That 70’s Show.

The characters of That 70’s Show actually align with those of Garfield. Scrawny and witty Eric may lack the masculinity and brute sarcasm of Hyde, and the sheer good looks of Kelso, but you can not argue that he gets Donna, who is taller and arguably more manly than Eric but who is also undeniably hot.

We’ve all seen this happen in high school. Eric is looked down upon to an extent because he’s small and regularly gets “kicked in the ass” by his father Red, but one cannot argue that he doesn’t have a large, powerful personality — based not on raw masculinity, but on wit and charm. As his relationship with Donna demonstrates — and I’m nearly certain this applies to reality — girls actually like men who aren’t “all man,” but who nonetheless walk with an air of confidence. Being ultra manly and sarcastic, as Hyde is, can be a defensive posture that stands in the way of relationships, and being open-hearted and undaunted by such Hyde-like behavior can make up for an apparent lack of “man.”

Two years ago at camp, I was embarrassed and lost a bit of self-confidence in the wake of the incident with the GQ ad. But in retrospect, the incident only emboldens my convictions that masculinity, and its role in the judgment of character, is overplayed. It reaffirms my thought that maybe, just maybe, girls are more than willing to spring for a guy who lacks brawn and cockiness but who is genuine and comfortable with who he is. Larson Gunn himself — who is a man-hugging teddy bear — offers terrific evidence that charm, character, and emotional openness trump brute-force manliness.