This article is about eating disorders. Scroll down for a list of resources if you or someone you know needs help.
Aron DoSouto has been doing drag in Saskatchewan for over 25 years. Now, he finds it more and more difficult to reserve places.
“They want a slender Barbie doll that looks good in a pair of underwear and a bra,” said DoSouto, who performs under the drag name Iona Whipp.
As a gender-fluid person, DoSouto does not find himself aligning himself with well-established body ideals for gay men, which he described as “chiseled, muscular, tomboyish or bone-thin youngsters.”
The 43-year-old Saskatoon resident said that while media pressure to conform to certain beauty standards for LGBTQ people has been around for a long time, in part due to the influence of “porn, erotica and movies,” shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race have perpetuated them even more. DoSouto said that he recently received negative comments during shows about his appearance, including his weight.
“A lot of us queens come from the theater, the old school where it was all about selling the song, but today there’s this constant need and drive to be skinnier and really skinny,” she said.
“It is something important that affects our community. If the organizers of the event are willing to shell out the money, they will bring RuPaul girls who can show off a slim, bare midriff, instead of supporting the local community.
Strict beauty standards can have serious impacts on the body image of LGBTQ people, who already face higher rates of eating disorders and other mental illnesses. Further fueling fears of not being accepted for their identity or orientation, some people may go to dangerous lengths to see themselves a certain way.
‘Negative reinforcement that I’m not enough’
Moose Jaw, Sask., resident Ell Bird grew up around “toxic ideas about body image.”
“Those standards rooted in patriarchy carry over into the queer community,” said Bird, who identifies as two-spirited and genderqueer.
One example: Androgyny (combining masculine and feminine characteristics) is often portrayed as a “neutral color palette or boxy clothing cuts,” Bird said, and that stems from trends among cisgender men.
“I’ve often been told not to wear flashy colors,” they said.
The desire for plus-size bodies to be hourglass-shaped is also based on heterosexual beauty standards.
It makes Bird feel left out. They said coming across dating profiles in the past with fatphobia listed as “personal preferences” triggered the binge eating disorder they’ve struggled with since childhood.
“I’m getting that negative reinforcement that I’m not good enough.”
‘The fear of being fat and the consequence of isolation’
various studies have found that eating disorders and disordered eating behaviors are more common among LGBTQ adults and teens than heterosexual and/or cisgender people.
Phillip Joy, a registered dietitian and assistant professor at Mount Saint Vincent University in Halifax, said that LGBTQ people experience increased pressure on their body image, as they are not only trying to conform to the ideals of a society in which being cisgender and heterosexual is considered the norm, but also try to find belonging within queer communities.
“The fear of being fat and the consequence of isolation is a very real thing in the queer community because you are already isolated based on your gender or sexuality and then you risk further isolation based on desirable bodies,” Joy said.
“Certain bodies have higher sexual currency than others. We live in an image-driven society, where a billion-dollar diet and fitness industry tells people they can’t be happy and healthy until they’re fit.” look fit.”
Joy said that advertising aimed at white gay men has particularly emphasized this ideal, as well as the need for a healthy, muscular body to counter wasting syndrome during the AIDS epidemic.
“Many grew up seeing queer as folkwhere the men were all muscular, white, and those were the only queer role models in the media at the time,” he said, referencing the popular American television series from the early 2000s. “Now, some say RuPaul’s Drag Race It makes them want to achieve a certain body type to be accepted.”
Joy emphasized that these pressures are “evident in all LGBTQ+ communities.”
Trans and intersex people at higher risk
“Clearly, relative to other identities in the LGBTQ+ community, trans and intersex people are disproportionately affected when it comes to body image pressures,” said Cody Esterle, a member of the Fighting eating disorders in underrepresented populations: a trans+ and intersex collective, which addresses the high rates of eating disorders in these underserved communities. Although the organization is based in the United States, it receives more and more requests from Canadian clients.
A major study of US college students from 2015 found that rates of diagnoses of eating disorders, use of diet pills, laxatives, or vomiting were higher among transgender participants.
Esterle said the portrayal of transgender and intersex people in the media is limited and, when it does happen, tends to be “white, Eurocentric.”
“If you simply Google ‘beautiful’ or ‘attractive’ men or women as a search, you will only find white, chiseled men or women.”
Esterle, a transmasculine person, said many trans people conform to those ideals in hopes of being socially accepted or uplifted.
“If a trans identity falls outside the beauty standards and ideals that cis people have created, they can experience a lot of harassment. If you fit in more and approve [as a cisgendered person] more, there will be less questioning of identities”.
Maya Homevoh agreed that “for many trans people, conformity is a way of survival.”
As a black, agender, and queer person, Homevoh faces multiple layers of standard beauty pressure. The stereotype that a “curvy black figure” is attractive, for example, has seeped into her circle of peers, she said.
“Black people are often reduced to our bodies,” said the Waterloo, Ontario resident. “I don’t have curves, but the expectation is held that all black women or femmes should have curves. It’s dehumanizing.”
Going to extreme lengths
Don Lu, a recent University of Saskatchewan graduate, comes across dating profiles that say “no fat, no women.”
“While my physique is fine for my height of 5’8″, I find myself wanting to be more muscular, in part so that more men are interested in me,” Lu said.
“I feel like not many people are attracted to Asians like me. If I was white with the same physique, it would have been a different story.”
Lu visits the gym at least four times to work on her body.
He is not the only one who goes to great lengths to achieve a certain look.
“Many people in the queer community get botox, liposuction, calf implants and other plastic surgeries, or take pills to counteract social exclusion,” said Alex Sangha of Sher Vancouver, an organization that serves LGBTQ South Asians.
In her counseling practice, Sangha encounters unrealistic body goals, eating disorders, and people who become “depressed and devastated because they can’t live up to portrayals of queer bodies in the media.”
Sangha himself has “experienced a lot of exclusion, alienation, isolation and loneliness trying to fit into the gay community” as someone in his 50s and “a bit of a bore”.
“I’m not the ideal stereotype of what people find desirable in the community,” he said.
“Fatphobia is worse in the queer community than in many other intersecting layers of racism and oppression because if you’re a fit, attractive ethnic person, you’ll be tokenized but at least accepted.”
While Sangha said media portrayals are becoming more diverse, they still largely perpetuate stereotypes.
Homevoh said that he never conforms to others’ expectations of his appearance and even tries to avoid so-called compliments about his body, which provokes him.
“I used to have an eating disorder and I tell people not to comment on my weight. Setting those limits is important.”
Canadian Resources on Eating Disorders
