Recently, I decided to get serious about losing weight. I want to run the Colfax Half Marathon in May and I’d like to be able to get down in the club without needing to take a hydration break every fifteen minutes, both of which are goals that require me to be in better shape than I am.
The problem is, I’m also caught in a love triangle with chocolate-frosted donuts and tacos, so losing weight has always been a challenge for me.
As a gay man, the challenge of losing weight and leading a healthier lifestyle (because those two aren’t necessarily synonymous) is made that much more perilous by the fact that gay culture has a history of being disturbingly harsh and discriminatory toward male bodies that aren’t tight, toned, and tanned.
2010 research highlighted by NBC suggests that those in relationships with men (gay men and straight women) most often felt pressure to be thin, and rates of obesity support that idea.
Numbers aside, I bet many of you out there can relate to this. It doesn’t take much effort to find someone whose boyfriend or partner has either pressured them to be thin or made them feel insecure for being overweight. Certainly, a positive environment within a relationship can go a long way toward creating a healthy desire to want to get your sweat on and drop some lbs. It can even be a surprisingly sensual experience to get your heart rate up at the gym with your boo. However, we as a gay community have created such a toxic environment for each other that we make it impossible for ourselves to handle our weight in a way that’s healthy for our own bodies, while also punishing each other for not losing that weight in the first place.
Certainly, we can do better as a community than we have been. In a society where gay men are still more likely to be discriminated against in the workplace, are still more likely to be the victims of hate crimes, and are still more likely to be denied equal access to the privileges and responsibilities of citizenship, it makes little sense why we wouldn’t care for each other and love each other for who we are right now. You might be reading this and wondering why I’m being so dramatic. Well, that’s because devaluing gay men because of their bodies has dramatic consequences.
The National Eating Disorders Association reported that gay men are three times as likely to have been diagnosed with an eating disorder as straight men. The backbreaking standard we have for tight, muscular male bodies has only intensified since the 1970s, and men with eating disorders have a higher mortality rate than females. It is difficult to completely link higher rates of eating disorders and a higher mortality rate with our disturbing body-image standards, but we absolutely know gay men are dying over this issue. We’re not any different than straight men, so what could possibly account for those drastic — and frankly, dangerous — differences between us? I’m all for breaking a sweat, and I enjoy abs and muscles as much as the next guy, but is it worth it if all we’re getting is a community that’s sicker, less happy, and closer to death?
Fellas, I’m not saying getting and staying in shape is a bad thing, because we know that’s not the case. What I am saying is that as hard as it can be to keep our bodies healthy and exercise regularly, we ought to consider loving each other for what our bodies look like right now.
