CHENNAI: For as long as I remember, I have been one of the biggest people in my inner circle, both in terms of height and weight. While my growing-up years were “cute and chubby”, my pre-teens were not. The “awww so sweet” comments turned into “good that you are tall enough not to look too fat.” On the other end of the spectrum were my “slimmer” friends, who took solace in remarks like “He has bone weight, so it doesn’t matter if he looks thin.” And thus, the labels — lanky, petite, stocky, gawky, cherubic, dainty — kept adding on as we caught up with age. However, in this social media era, where the perfect look is just an Instagram filter away, the burden and impact of these judgments are far deeper than the current depression in the Bay of Bengal, it seems.
How do you explain to every stranger that your weight gain is due to stress-eating? How do you explain to every troll that your weight loss results from a significant illness and not a few weeks of hitting the gym and dieting? No wonder there seems to be quite a load of truth in French writer and feminist Simone de Beauvoir’s sage words, “To lose confidence in one’s body is to lose confidence in oneself”. And it’s this loss that makes us seek answers in the external world to quieten our self-doubts.
Confidence turns into casualty
“It is so uncomfortable to be constantly at the receiving end of comments about my physical appearance. It seems like even looking perfect is not enough,” says Vishwa*, a Chennai-based IT employee. “I was fat... I mean, quite ‘healthy’ as a kid,” he says, laughing. “When society was forced to be cautious of using the term ‘fat’, look at how they took the pain to come up with an ‘acceptable’ substitute instead of just not commenting on someone’s physical appearance.” Vishwa’s laborious hours in the gym began when a random kid on the street called him “uncle”, even before he had turned 20. “Of course, I love working on myself now, but this process didn’t start because I wanted to be healthy,” he says.
This struggle to be comfortable in one’s skin is a life-long process for most, and while men have started to break the shackles of social conditioning to seek outside help, body image issues continue to be a touchy topic. “Fewer men go to therapy, and in that tiny funnel, there’s an even smaller number of men talking about their body image. At the most, they opt for therapy to iron out their relationship issues, work-life balance, or someone in their life pushed them to opt for it,” says Sanjana Prasad, a psychotherapist. “I have seen clients talk about body image only when it came to working on their relationship issues, but it has hardly been a strong enough reason for men to reach out for help,” she shares.
The domino effect of harbouring body image issues is shockingly pronounced in relationships, especially in this digital age where everything is documented. “Look at me, do you think being with someone who isn’t BMI-compatible with me is an option I have?” asks a 20-something Kiran*, who firmly believes that being with someone much thinner than him would make the couple a subject of ridicule on social media. “I have liked women who aren’t my body type, but I could never imagine a life with them. Firstly, they might not like me back, and even if they do, it will seem to the world that she is a settler in the equation.
Even if I can manage that issue, I know that my friends would mock me behind my back that I got lucky. It isn’t that my partner feels similarly about me, but I can’t help but overthink if they too will think on similar lines. It is tough in the long run,” he details. While compatibility with a prospective partner is an essential facet of being in a relationship and being with a particular body type can be attributed to preference, many like Kiran report that this preference isn’t solely based on the voice from within. It is in fear of relentless voices from the outside.
New norms to normalise
While women have been known to be the casualties in this epidemic of body shaming, a quick Google search will reveal a rising number of forums and discussion groups that help them cope and talk about body inclusivity. The same, however, cannot be said for men, who are conditioned to seek pride in punishing gym routines, starving diet regimes and suppressed anxieties. It could be much easier for men if they have a group of peers to share, voice and vent without being at the receiving end of the most doled-out advice — go to the gym. But let’s face it, even our peer group of men don’t know better.
For instance, the film, Vaaranam Aayiram, released 13 years ago, painted a (stereotypical) picture of a man who is down in the dumps after a heartbreak. He is shown to be unemployed, a drug addict, and an overall disgrace to his family. In his happier times, he was a musician and a loverboy, and this phase of the film prompted many, including yours truly, to buy a guitar in the hopes of finding love. In his lonely drug-fuelled times, he is despicable, and at one point, when he decides to turn his life around, where does he go? To the gym, of course. Six-pack abs and chiselled features were the rage.
However, I wish Suriya was shown as going to therapy too. In the history of Tamil cinema, if ever there was a character that would have significantly benefited from going to therapy, it would have been him. This could have normalised prioritising mental health for an entire generation of people and their parents too. But all’s not lost yet. Hope came in the form of the Malayalam film, Kumbalangi Nights, in a particular scene where the protagonist is shown to seek therapy — a watershed moment in mental health representation in our movies.
Sanjana agrees, “Men who struggle with body image issues prefer to hit the gym, chug protein powder, read self-help books, and even seek the help of online gurus who tell them how to develop a magnetic personality to charm girls. They will prefer any of these things over going to therapy.” It is only recently that Indians are comfortable with the idea of therapy and seeking help for mental health issues. Yet, the effort to achieve this is not without the fear of ridicule, for many like Vishwa. “If I talk about all this on social media, I know there will be a sense of empathy that will come from some sections, but let’s be honest, do I want to be boxed under one more label?” he asks. “I will have to educate my friends about my problems, hoping they understand how their words can be hurtful and the overall usefulness of seeking help for mental health issues. It is just an added responsibility that doesn’t guarantee results. So how long do you think I’d bother doing this? Going to the gym seems like less work, and guarantees results with the right effort,” he shares.
Talk to tackle
I can’t help but draw parallels between parents and peers coming to terms with the idea of mental health, and global leaders dealing with climate change. If sections of the latter believe ignorance does wonders to climate change, sections of the former believe marriages and relationships will solve our mental health issues. There needs to be a structural overhaul that helps men come to terms with their body image issues. Being a plus-sized person, I am uncomfortable buying western wear because of the need to walk into a separate store for it. My usual brands don’t have options in my size. I remember being devastated that I had to move out of my favourite store after trying their largest size and not fitting in. Did I talk to anyone about it? No.
I found an alternative, but it didn’t put an end to my mental woes. Of course, not everyone can afford therapy, and at times, more than having people with informed opinions, having a close group that offers a silent support can be far more healthier. Irrespective of the external factor, be it friends or professional help or both, which determines our happiness, there are four seemingly simple things that we could begin with — tell what’s bothering us, ask for help, look out for each other, and develop kindness. Start talking.
*Names changed