My husband mocks “bimbofication”… but I’m secretly into the male version. Do I tell him?

Hi Jake, So, my husband sent me the Queerty article this week about Kristi Noem's husband allegedly being into “bimbofication,” and he was going off about it. I laughed along in the moment… but the problem is: I didn’t totally feel like I was laughing."

Hi Jake,

So, my husband sent me the Queerty article this week about Kristi Noem’s husband allegedly being into “bimbofication,” and he was going off about it. He started ranting about how gross and “pathetic” it was, and said something along the lines of, “Imagine being turned on by that?!”

I laughed along in the moment… but the problem is: I didn’t totally feel like I was laughing.

While I’ve never used that exact term—and I don’t agree with politicians (or their spouses) who act against things they secretly do—I’ve had my own version of this in my head for years. Not a full transformation fantasy or anything extreme, just a fascination with exaggerated, hyper-pretty, slightly clueless “himbo” energy. Think overly-groomed, smooth, a bit airheaded, and more focused on perfect pecs and biceps than having much going on upstairs.

How about we take this to the next level?

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I’ve watched videos, read stuff, even caught myself imagining what it would feel like to be that version of myself for a minute… less in control, more… objectified. Which is not how I move through the world at all.

I’ve never told him this or acted on it. It’s just this quiet fantasy of mine. But after hearing how strongly he reacted, I feel like I’ve gotten a glimpse of exactly how he’d see me if I ever shared this part of myself.

I feel stuck. Do I keep this in my own private “spank bank,” or do I find a way to share it with my husband and risk being seen as “gross” or “ridiculous” by the person I’m supposed to feel safest with?

Himbo in Hiding

Dear Himbo in Hiding,

The article you’re talking about—the one about Kristi Noem’s husband and this whole “bimbofication” thing—has definitely been getting a lot of attention this week, and your husband’s not alone in having a strong negative take. It’s easy to mock something that feels deviant or outside the norm, especially when it’s coming from the husband of someone who’s taken pretty hardline positions around gender and sexuality. That kind of hypocrisy tends to bring out a lot of judgment.

But what matters here isn’t really the article—it’s what it stirred up for you. As you were hearing all of this, you recognized something in yourself. Set the headlines aside, and what you’re left with is simple: you have a fantasy. And there’s nothing inherently wrong or pathological about that.

Here’s what may actually be happening. What you’re describing is a kind of objectification fantasy, but not in the way people usually think about that word. At its core, this isn’t really about becoming “dumb” or exaggerated. It’s about stepping out of a role you usually occupy.

Most of us move through the world managing how we’re perceived. We try to come across as competent, capable, in control. That takes energy. So it makes sense that there can be a pull toward the opposite. Being seen as purely desirable, simplified, even a little ridiculous. Not because you are those things, but because you get to stop performing everything else for a minute.

In a gay context, that can show up in familiar ways. The “himbo” archetype—polished, pretty, a little vacant, hyper-desirable—is already part of the culture. It’s a way of playing with power and attention without the usual stakes. There can be something freeing in letting yourself be objectified for a moment, even just in your imagination. You’re not being evaluated. You’re just… wanted.

And yes, that can be hot.

The important thing here is that this isn’t a moral failing. It’s part of your inner world. What makes it complicated isn’t the fantasy. It’s the context it lives in. Right now, it exists as a secret alongside a partner who’s shown you how he reacts when something doesn’t make sense to him.

So the question becomes less “is this okay?” (it is) and more “what feels safe to share?”

You don’t owe anyone full access to your imagination. But if something starts to feel hidden or shameful, that can create distance. So instead of jumping straight into a full confession, start by opening the door a little.

You might say something like, “That article actually got me thinking. I agree the hypocrisy is gross, but I also don’t think it’s as crazy as people are making it sound.”

That gives you a way to test the waters without putting yourself fully on the line. You’re not trying to explain everything. You’re just seeing whether there’s room for curiosity without judgment. And if there isn’t, that tells you something too.

At the end of the day, fantasies like this exist for a reason. They offer a kind of escape—from pressure, from performance, from having to be fully “on” all the time. And in the words of the ultimate himbo in Barbie… you are Kenough.

Ask Jake is Queerty’s advice column by editor and Licensed Marriage & Family Therapist Jake Myers. Got a question? Email jakemyers@queerty.com—or connect more deeply through his LGBTQ+ therapy platform. 

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