My ancestors came from hearty Irish and Native-American stock. Generations of enduring potato famines and corn blights left their genetic markers on us, no doubt. It’s quite probably the reason why all of my family members aren’t exactly on the svelte side.
As a young gay teen I was constantly battling the scales to be as rail thin as possible. Even though it was an uphill battle I faced it head on: I gave up eating except once daily around 2 p.m. By the time I reached 18 I was 6-foot-3 and 145 pounds.
“You can never be too thin” was my motto. But when I look back at photos from that period in my life I think I crossed the line. I was too thin. In my mind, however, I was convinced I looked the best ever.
With age comes an evolving mindset and — for many of us — an expanding waistline. Relationships develop, priorities change. By my early 30s I was no longer obsessed with being as skinny as possible. In hindsight, I realize now that — quite probably — I was suffering from some kind of body dysmorphic disorder.
I never gave it much thought really. It actually dawned on me just the other day when an article that appeared in a publication called The Collegian made its way into my email.
“Gay men face higher eating disorder risk,” the headline screamed.
According to the article, which cited a recent study by Columbia University, more than 15 percent of gay and bisexual men suffer from some form of subclinical eating disorder — which includes anorexia, bulimia and binge-eating — compared to the less than five percent of straight men.
“The belief that gay men are exposed to more body emphasis and pressure on appearance than heterosexual men has been a common belief,” said Mary Anne Knapp, clinical social worker at the Center for Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS) at Penn State. “Like women, gay and bisexual men are being told by society that they aren’t okay as they are.”
Duh.
The judgment and pressure gay men dole out within our own community regarding appearance is legendary.
“For gay men ... it’s the fear that they won’t fit in or find the right someone. It creates a pressure to maintain a certain body type. I don’t know about bisexuals, but you can definitely see it in gay men,” said Todd Swagler, a sophomore at Penn State who is openly gay.
Coincidentally, another article regarding body image and eating habits in the LGBT community popped up on the radar screen this past week: “Lesbians twice as likely to be obese.”
Published in the American Journal of Public Health, this study looked at a 2002 national survey of almost 6,000 women, and found that lesbians were 2.69 times more likely to be overweight and 2.47 times more likely to be obese.
“Lesbians have more than twice the odds of (being) overweight,” the authors wrote. “Our findings indicate that lesbian sexual identity is linked to a greater prevalence of overweight and obesity.”
Here’s the interesting twist:
“The results of these studies indicate that lesbian women have a better body image than do heterosexual women.”
Ironic, isn’t it? The lack of confidence in their own body image is the very factor that drives some gay men to extremes in order to “fit in.”
For some lesbians, the presence of confidence in their sexual identity and body image allows them to be comfortable with the opposite extreme: being overweight or even obese.
What’s the lesson to be learned here?
For gay men with eating disorders trying to achieve the GQ body— it’s time for a reality check. Don’t be so hard on yourself or judgmental on others. Work out and create the physique you’re capable of, but realize what you see in a magazine is often the end result of a good Photoshop artist.
For overweight lesbians comfortable with the way you are, congratulations on the self-esteem — we should all be so lucky. Just watch your blood pressure and cholesterol levels.
David Moore Editor
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