“Conformity is a way of surviving”: How beauty standards for LGBTQ people affect body image and mental health | CBC News

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 more than 25 years. Now he’s finding it increasingly difficult to book venues.

“You want a slim Barbie doll that looks good in lingerie and a bra,” said DoSouto, who goes by the drag name Iona Whipp.

As a gendered person, DoSouto finds himself at odds with the entrenched body ideals for gay men, which he described as “chiseled, built, and butch or bone-thin skinny twink.”

The 43-year-old Saskatoon resident said while media pressure to uphold certain standards of beauty for LGBTQ people has long existed, in part due to the influence of “porn, adult entertainment and movies,” shows how RuPaul’s Drag Race have immortalized them further. DoSouto said he recently received sneaky comments about his appearance, including his weight, during shows.

“A lot of us queens come from the theater — the old school, where it was all about selling the song — but nowadays there’s this constant need and urge to be skinnier and really skinny,” he said.

“It’s a big thing affecting our community. If organizers are willing to shell out the money, they will bring it RuPaul Girls who can show off a bare slim stomach instead of supporting the local community.”

Narrow standards of beauty can have a serious impact on the body image of LGBTQ people, who are already more likely to deal with eating disorders and other mental illnesses. The fear of not being accepted because of their identity or orientation is fueled further as some people make dangerous efforts to look a certain way.

“Negative affirmation that I am not enough”

Ell Bird resident Moose Jaw, Sask., grew up with “toxic ideas about body image.”

“These standards enshrined in patriarchy will carry over into the queer community,” said Bird, who identifies as dual-spirited and gender-segregated.

For example, androgyny (a combination of masculine and feminine traits) is often portrayed as “neutral color palettes or square cuts of clothing,” Bird said, and that stems from trends among cisgender men.

“I’ve often been told not to wear bright colors,” they said.

The desire for plus-size bodies to have an hourglass shape also stems from heterosexual beauty standards.

This leaves Bird feeling left out. They said coming across dating profiles in the past that listed fat phobia as a “personal preference” sparked the binge eating disorder they had struggled with since childhood.

“I get this negative reinforcement that I’m not enough.”

“Fear of being fat and the consequences of isolation”

Various studies have found that eating disorders and disordered eating behaviors are more common among LGBTQ adults and teenagers than among people who are straight and/or cisgender.

Phillip Joy, a registered dietitian and assistant professor at Mount Saint Vincent University in Halifax, said LGBTQ people face higher body image pressures because they’re not just trying to conform to the ideals of a society where cisgender and straight are considered the norm apply, but also try to find affiliation with queer communities.

“The fear of being fat and the consequences of isolation is very real in the queer community because you’re already isolated because of your gender or sexuality and then you’re at risk of further isolation because of desirable bodies,” Joy said.

“Certain bodies have a higher sexual currency than others. We live in an image-driven society where a billion-dollar diet and fitness industry tells people you can’t be happy and healthy until you look fit.”

Joy said the advertisements for white, gay men emphasized that ideal, as well as the need for a muscular, fit body to counteract the wasting syndrome during the AIDS epidemic.

“A lot of people grew up watching Queer as a peoplewhere men were all built, muscular, white — and those were the only queer role models in the media at the time,” he said, referring to the popular American television series of the early 2000s. “Now some say RuPaul’s Drag Race makes them want to achieve a certain body type in order to be accepted.”

Joy stressed that these pressures are “evident in all LGBTQ+ communities.”

Trans, intersex people are at higher risk

“Compared to other identities in the LGBTQ+ community, trans and intersex people are undoubtedly disproportionately impacted when it comes to pressures around body image,” said Cody Esterle, a team member at Tackling Eating Disorders in Underrepresented Populations: A Trans+ and Intersex Collective, which addresses the high rates of eating disorders in these marginalized communities. Although the organization is based in the United States, it is receiving an increasing number of inquiries from Canadian customers.

A Major studies by US college students 2015 found rates of eating disorder diagnosis, use of diet pills, laxatives, or vomiting were highest among transgender participants.

Esterle said representation of transgender and intersex people in the media is limited and when it does, tends to be “white, Eurocentric”.

“If you just google ‘beautiful’ or ‘attractive’ men or women as a search, you’ll only find white chiseled men or women.”

A trans masculine person herself, Esterle said many trans people conform to these ideals and hope to be socially accepted or uplifted.

“When a trans identity falls outside of these beauty standards and ideals that cis people have created, there can be so much harassment that can come their way. If you fit more and pass [as a cisgendered person] more, there will be less questioning of identities.”

Maya Homevoh agreed that “adaptation is a way of survival for many trans people.”

As an agender, queer, black person, Homevoh faces multiple levels of beauty standard pressures. For example, the cliche that a “curvy black figure” was attractive permeated her circle of friends, she said.

“Black people are often reduced to our bodies,” said the Waterloo, Ontario resident. “I’m not curvy, but the expectation remains that all black women or women must be curvy. It’s dehumanizing.”

Go to extreme lengths

University of Saskatchewan freshman Don Lu comes across dating profiles that say, “No fats, no femmes.”

“While my physique is okay for my height of 5ft 8″, I want to be more muscular, in part so that more guys are attracted to me,” said Lu.

“I feel like not many people are attracted to Asians like me. If I were white and had the same build, it would have been a different story.”

Lu goes to the gym at least four times to work on his body.

He’s not the only one who goes to such lengths to achieve a certain look.

“So many people in the queer community are getting botox, liposcution, calf implants and other plastic surgeries or taking pills to combat social exclusion,” said Alex Sangha of Sher Vancouver, an organization that cares for LGBTQ South Asians.

In his counseling practice, Sangha encounters unrealistic body goals, eating disorders, and people who are “depressed and devastated at their inability to face media portrayals of queer bodies.”

Sangha himself has “experienced a lot of marginalization, alienation, isolation and loneliness trying to fit into the gay community” as someone who is 50 and “a bit clumsy”.

“I’m not the ideal cliché of what people in the community find desirable,” he said.

“Fatphobia is worse in the queer community than in many others intersectional layers of racism and oppression because if you are a good looking fit ethnic person you are symbolized but at least accepted.

While Sangha said that media portrayals are becoming more diverse, they still largely perpetuate stereotypes.

Homevoh said she never conforms to others’ expectations of her appearance and even tries to avoid perceived compliments about her body, which she feels is a trigger.

“I used to have an eating disorder and I urge people not to comment on my weight. It is important to set those boundaries.”

Canadian Resources for Eating Disorders