By Lucas Gutiérrez

For those of us spending the lockdown at home, one of the consequences is overexposure to screens. On these platforms, hegemonic bodies receive 'likes' without question. Stories alternate between fat-hating memes and fitness routines from those who exercise to combat this constructed aesthetic ideal.

“I’ve already started to get a belly,” writes a cisgender gay man under his quarantine Adonis photo, overacting the drama and the baby talk. Below, the likes validate his utopian vision. Outside, we mortals are indignant at him for showing no empathy or understanding, but also angry at what the mirror shows us.

We don't have many options: either we conform to the dominant norms or we have to become "positive" and love our bodies just as they are. If only we could embrace what we're given and a photo with the caption "this is my body and I love it this way" were enough. But it's not that easy. A dominant body exists and wins. An abject body must be the voice of a revolution and the courage to please. They like the gesture, not the ass.

Muscle dysmorphia

Anorexia and bulimia have always been eating disorders associated with femininity. There's debate about the images of models and artists and how they influence those who suffer from them. But men's bodies are also affected by these utopian and unrealistic images and the pressure and demands they place on us.

“ Muscle dysmorphia is a disorder that involves body image issues, body dissatisfaction, exercise patterns, and eating behaviors, through which people believe their bodies are not muscular enough, regardless of how muscular they actually are,” explains Emilio Compte, PhD in Psychology and professor/researcher at Adolfo Ibáñez University (Chile). “People alter their eating habits, their exercise routine becomes dysfunctional, and they experience significant distress because they believe that until they achieve their desired physique, they will not be able to fulfill themselves as individuals,” he says.

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Just as we normalize women dieting, men building muscle is seen as another achievement and a step closer to the normative stereotype. But when do we talk about steroid use or bodies that inject oil? And what about the physical consequences of some high-intensity sports practiced at the local club without proper guidance? No, nobody talks about this. It doesn't matter if our health suffers in the process.

“An eating disorder takes the form of the ideal body you're striving for,” explains Dr. Compte. In other words, whatever our body type, if the goal is unrealistic, we'll never achieve it. If a man is asked whether he fasts or diets to lose weight and we rule out a disorder, it's because he's being judged by feminized standards.

It is uncommon for men—that social construct called “man”—to speak about these situations because there is a social norm that punishes them for doing so. This same norm considers “these issues” as something that only concerns non-men. A 2004 academic article published in the U.S. Public Library of Medicine states that there are no relevant differences between gay and heterosexual men in terms of the type of bodies they want and the degree of body dissatisfaction, but that gay men are more demanding regarding the body they expect from their partner.

And yes, my friend, I also want what the media promises me. Because the mainstream 'gay body' is muscular, hairless, white-tanned, happy, and proudly displaying its rainbow. The rest of us—those with different skin tones, the thin ones, the Black ones, those with disabilities, the fat ones—what are we? The non-hegemonic quota. On social media and in advertising, the hundreds of mainstream representations are complemented by a few "other bodies." And while I think it's perfectly valid that we're in their commercials and catalogs, it seems we can only occupy that space, the space of the other, as a mere afterthought, an add-on. Don't even think about displacing the living stereotype; just be content with what they give us.

Is the responsibility that of the hegemonic body or that of those who legitimize it?

If we consider it valid to rethink the hegemonic body, we should also ask ourselves: What are we "liking"? Recently, I was outraged and yelling at my phone about all those body types I scrolling through . At that moment, something inside me screamed STOP with the vehemence of Britney Spears in the song "Crazy," and I asked myself: When did I start following all these accounts of muscular bodies?

And that opened up a flood of questions: Which photos do I message on Grindr? Which photos do I match with on Tinder? And I say 'photos' instead of 'people' because until I read a bit of their bio and so on, that's all they are: a photo.

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It's not enough to demand that the industry provide all the necessary services; we also need to seriously rethink our consumption habits. And I say "consumption habits" because sometimes we use supermarket shopping apps in the same way we use apps for finding sexual partners. Add a hookup to your cart.

I went on a date with a Korean guy a while ago, and he kept asking me, "Seriously, you like Asians?" I honestly didn't understand why he was so surprised. "I'm going to the gym a lot so I can move from 'Asian' to 'muscular,'" he told me, and that's when I realized he was referring to the categories you have to fill out on dating apps. I never found out what TV shows he liked or who he was going to vote for.

Abdominals and depression: the betrayal of resistance.

A year ago I started gymnastics with my teacher Dante. When I talked about it, I justified it by saying that working so much on the computer caused me a lot of back pain. I preferred to explain the effect of exercise on my hemorrhoids, anything to avoid admitting one of the main reasons: I wanted to be desirable to this perverse and superficial system.

Another convenient excuse I told myself, and bought into, was how helpful exercise is for depression. The famous quote from Elle Woods—Reese Witherspoon in 'Legally Blonde'—is well-known: "Exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy." And the truth is, I still exercise, I'm not happy, but my photos get more likes when I show off the results.

It's not about replacing one hegemony with another, but about understanding the structures. I heard Darío Sztansjnszrajber say something like that, and I agree. I am not the new hegemony. I am not the new Stacey Malibu NOW WITH ABS. I am simply polishing my Lisa Lionheart to better reflect my desires. And I understand myself not to answer questions, but to take responsibility for my contradictions.

And this still feels like a betrayal of the struggle. I'm like the Dexter meme telling the picture on his locker, "I failed you." But... who am I putting in the picture? Who am I failing? The dissent? My own body , the one I don't like? #BodyPositive, as I understand it, isn't about romanticizing what we don't like, but about learning to love who we are, and today I'm learning to love this body. I'm trying.

recently discussed this topic in my radio segment FutuRock internet radio . Beforehand, to understand the context, I checked my Instagram feed to see how gay men felt about their bodies. Anxiety, depression, muscle dysmorphia, stress, and more were among the responses. And after a couple of glances at my social media feed, I understood why.

“Having body image dissatisfaction isn't necessarily a disorder because no one is ever completely satisfied with their body image. Everyone experiences some degree of body dissatisfaction. The problem arises when this prevents us from doing things or makes us feel obligated to do others,” explains Dr. Compte. The vast majority of us are dissatisfied with our bodies, especially when the ideal we aspire to is unrealistic and/or manipulated by design software. But sometimes this feeling grows to the point of becoming uncontrollable without external help .

And I say all this, someone who could easily be seen as having "skinny people's problems." I, who once received questions like, "Are you skinny because of AIDS?" As a child, I was constantly taken to doctors to help me gain weight because my thinness "must be an illness." And yet, my 54 kilos are nothing compared to the challenges a fat person faces in these matters.

It would be wonderful to close this opinion piece by saying that everyone's body is valid. But it's very difficult when stereotypes are imposed and normalized. It's not enough to attack these representations; we also need to rethink our consumption habits. I think the best way to close this piece is with the words of #SelfLove activist and #Bodypositive advocate Agus Cabaleiro (@onlinemami_) , who recently posted: “You are just as valid as a person no matter what body you have or what changes you're going through. I'm sending you love, and know that you're not alone; we're all facing fatphobia together.”

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