Fighting Back Against The Exclusionary Social Media Feed
Digitally published on Unpublished Magazine, August 2021. Cover art by Honey Simatupang. View original publication.
For as long as I have been conscious of my body, I have been keenly aware of the fact that I am bigger than many of my friends. As a child, I didn’t hold a negative connotation with my weight. I mourn the time of my life where I hadn’t yet made my way onto the internet past Webkinz and Club Penguin, blissfully unaware of the disparaging view the world already had placed upon me due to my body shape. As a youth growing up in the 21st century, however, my 13-year-old self could not wait to get onto Instagram and Twitter.
Since downloading the suite of social media platforms the world loves to hate, my view of myself has undergone a rollercoaster of changing opinions. My media consumption drastically heightened with the COVID-19 pandemic sending our world entirely online for the last year and a half. Before long, I was left ashamed by the lack of resemblance with anyone I saw on screen. Against better logic, I couldn’t stop scrolling. No matter how far I spiraled, I couldn’t escape the constant flow of content. I needed a distraction from the world around me, and that distraction came in the form of the body positivity movement.
The hashtag #bodypositivity currently holds over 13.1 billion views on TikTok videos and 8.4 million posts on Instagram, all with attached captions along the lines of “all bodies are good bodies!” and “normalize normal bodies!”. While these sentiments are fantastic, I found the body-positive movement leaving a rancid taste in my mouth. I watched so many body-positive videos that logically my mindset should have started to grow in self-love, but I felt no change within my perspective of myself.
The root issue of this movement became quickly apparent. The body-positive content that social media platforms are pushing almost entirely came from conventionally attractive and thin creators already popularized on the respective platform. The same thin society that weaponizes the word fat as a derogatory term is now diminishing fat voices within a movement meant to empower fat people, and they are making money off of it. Instead of working to actively dismantle the discrimination against fat people within society, I was just watching thin people assure me that it’s okay that I am fat while raking in millions of likes and accolades for being progressive and accepting.
I do appreciate the core ideals behind the body positivity movement, but the fault within it is the fact that the activism that’s portrayed feels performative at best and harmful at its worst. For example, a common trend on TikTok’s body positivity hashtag involves creators showing videos of their bodies before and after eating, with the after videos showing slightly distended bellies from bloating and the fit of their clothing changing. Another popular trend on Instagram has creators posting images of their drastic weight loss journey, often supported by popular and unsustainable crash diets, and adding in the body positivity hashtag for exposure. Posts such as these litter social media platforms and change the general message of the movement from “all bodies are good bodies” to “all bodies are good bodies (as long as the end goal is being thin)”.
I felt like the world was telling me my body can bloat and be fat, but it must be momentary. I can occupy space as a fat person, but only if I am actively working to become thin. My body is not momentarily fat. I am not simply bloated for a few hours. This is my body twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I am also not actively seeking to change my body, I merely want to see myself represented online and in popular media.
This desire for representation pushed me to actively search the internet for fat content. The algorithm that curates TikTok’s For You Page picked up on my interest in fat creators, and suddenly my page was filled with fashion, comedy, art, activism, and more, all from fat people. From there, the shift was immediate across all of my social media accounts.
The first space I found within the fat community was plus-size fashion tips, including posts like the popular “Realistic, Try On Hauls” from @remibader on TikTok. In this series, the creator works through popular brands, discusses her size, and shows how different pieces fit, usually easing any frustration with jokes and poking fun at the brands for any ill-fitting styles. Other creators on TikTok, such as @diana.dares, post their own creations of popular trends in fashion today. A core theme running through the plus size fashion content online is the fact that brand sizing is hellishly inconsistent and incredibly exclusionary, however, fat people do not need to be left out of clothing trends. Seeing bodies that look like mine be so fashionable and editorial did wonders for my mental health/view of myself. Dressing the way that I want has always seemed unattainable as I was under the impression that I should wear baggy clothing to “hide my weight”, but these creators smash through that idea and look fabulous while doing it.
When it comes to comedy, very niche fat comedy exists online. I have spent hours laughing as comedians turn the judgment and discrimination they face as a bigger person into jokes. A popular series on TikTok is the “Fat or Cap” series, where energetic host @yiddiez_ finds a video of someone discussing that their attraction to fat people and then live scrolls through their following list while making jokes to decide if the original poster truly meant the video’s sentiment or if they were just using the idea of attraction to fat people for views. This kind of comedy is not only hilarious but also explores the life of dating and attraction while plus size. The commonplace dating tactics of today, dating apps, in particular, become harder when the user is fat and doesn’t adhere to the societal beauty standards expected of photosets on Tinder profiles. Seeing a series that not only jokes about but also openly discusses attraction to fat people is reassuring. It's a welcome change from standard media that often leaves fat people like the funny side character in a thin person’s love story.
Fat art and photography online are nothing less than astonishing. Two creators that I love are Brianna McDonnell (@_the_b_word_) and Kansas City Boudoir (@goodbodieskc) on Instagram. Both accounts feature fat people of various sizes in artistic media - a showing of their beauty and sensuality in spaces that they are often excluded from. This reclamation of sex and beauty is powerful to witness, especially due to the vast range of body shapes and sizes that are featured. The understanding that my body can be shot through a lens of love and beauty has prompted me to begin looking at myself through that same lens, finding beauty in a mirror that used to feel like my worst critic.
Activists online have a range of issues they choose to focus on when it comes to fat people. Creators like @saucyewest fight for inclusivity in size ranges, demanding that clothing retailers expand their size ranges to include larger bodies. A common issue I have found is my lack of ability to walk into any store and find something that fits me. This is a recurring narrative expressed by fat people of all sizes as popular clothing brands try to make the distinction that you can be fat or you can be trendy, but you cannot be both simultaneously. When brands are more size-inclusive, they often only extend their size range for certain pieces and keep an incredibly limited stock, driving home the idea that they will sell to bigger people, but only on their terms of what is acceptable for plus size fashion.
Another fat activist I love is J from @comfyfattravels. They are a non-binary fat person who discusses accessibility and comfortability in a world built for smaller people, as well as generates public conversations about their own gender identity and how being super fat impacts their view of their gender. As a fat queer person myself, I connect deeply with J’s struggles. Growing to understand yourself outside of the gender binary is incredibly hard due to common feelings of dysphoria within your own body, and gender dysphoria is absolutely heightened when the world is already telling you your body is wrong with every curve and roll. My understanding of my identities will always include my body size, so hearing poignant and honest conversations about this intersection is refreshing and reassuring.
Discussing similar issues on the podcast side of social media, Matter of Fat podcast is on its fourth season of speaking about the issues surrounding fat people daily. Matter of Fat also brings on a variety of guest hosts, broadening their discussions and creating a more diverse set of voices. Through these various activists, hearing open discussions about the issues that I thought that I had previously imagined or I was alone in feeling has been the most freeing moment in the last year of my life. I finally know that I am not alone in the discrimination I feel and I am not alone in fighting back against it on all fronts. Fat people are taking the platforms meant to bring them down and utilizing them to broaden the outreach of their activism.
Finding this vibrant online community that loves all, no matter your shape or size feels like breathing for the first time. I suddenly have a new world view in the palm of my hand with fantastic advice on a variety of topics. I no longer shame myself when I can’t fit the same size across various brands, instead, I now take notice of the inconsistencies of sizing, particularly found within women’s clothing. I have gained knowledge on how to approach doctor’s visits, as fat people often find their medical concerns disregarded by doctors in favor of discussions about weight. I have stopped hiding from the camera, allowing myself to be photographed joyously as I am. I am finally agreeing with the notion that I am allowed to take up the space my body occupies and make my voice heard. I do not need to wait to be thinner, I can claim the world as I am now.
There is no denying that online media has evolved into a beast that pushes a false narrative upon all of us to sell products and make us wistful for a life we don’t have or a body that is not ours. Now that I have made the conscious decision to diversify my feed, I have finally stopped adhering to this media standard and I genuinely have never felt better about myself. My body issues have diminished, moving instead into self-love and body activism. A vast majority of the content that is now recommended to me comes from fat creators, replenishing my feed with new art and activism from the voices that I want to hear about issues pertaining to my body. I successfully made my social media a love letter to fat people, and I subsequently fell in love with myself again.