your favourite plus sized influencer deserves to live freely, and so do you

when body positive creators’ bodies change, what do they owe us?

When lifestyle or body positive creators’ lives change - when their bodies change - what information or recognition do we deserve back from them as fans and admirers? Do we hold them to the same standards as we do to ourselves, to those we know and love? Or do we hold it a bit higher because they’ve curated their image to be digestible, traceable, and always accessible?

On February 26th The New York Times posted an article titled “They Promoted Body Positivity. Then They Lost Weight: Do plus-size influencers owe their followers an explanation when their bodies change?”

In this article, there are quotes from interviews with many different plus sized models and influencers, but a large portion is focused on Dronme Davis. Davis is a plus sized influencer, known for her activism and outspoken nature regarding body positivity, and who in recent months, has lost a significant amount of weight. The article not only dissects the nature behind her weight loss (an eating disorder relapse), but interviews both fans and critics alike who express how they feel slighted, disappointed, and even betrayed by her silence regarding this very visible change.

That subheading: “Do plus-side influencers owe their followers an explanation when their bodies change?” is a good question! A good hook! But 1,900+ words later and the journalist never actually gets around to answering it. Here’s what I think the article’s missing.

When interviewed by the Times, Tianna James (fan of Dronme Davis), spoke on the admiration she had for her. James was quoted saying:

“I wanted to feel comfortable in my body, and she was like me in so many ways, so it made it easier to be myself”

and

“if I could find this person beautiful, and she was bigger, I could find myself beautiful, too.”

This is a wonderful sentiment, and I’m sure was a large motivation in Davis’ presence online. Advocacy for the body positive movement by influencers of different shapes and sizes is an opportunity for fans and admirers alike to feel empowered by the representation. But this is a double edged sword.

By sharing aspects of your relationship with your body, your diet, or way of living, you make space for fans to then feel deserving of that information when they see visible changes.

Davis had not spoken out on this change until she talked with the Times, and in response to this, Tianna James described feeling like Davis’ silence was a “betrayal”. She was quoted saying Davis’ lack of transparency felt as though she was being “dishonest with her community”. James admitted that she didn’t quite feel owed an apology, but that it was a noticeable change that deserved to be discussed openly. The Times notes that fans of plus-sized influencers whose images change are abandoning the causes they so loudly fought in the name of. This is an unrealistic judgment and standard to be held to when there are so many moving parts to someone’s life that their fans are not privy to.

To me, this frustration and hurt feels a lot like when a parent is disappointed with a celebrity for being a “bad influence” on their child. It’s easier to blame the celebrity for the “irresponsible actions” they’ve made (that only affect the celebrity directly) when in reality they should probably just parent a bit more closely. It is not the responsibility of the celebrity, or other famous public figure, to maintain a certain lifestyle, image, or presence for the sake of how it affects other people, particularly young, impressionable audiences. The same is applicable here. Inspiration and empowerment is one thing, projection and malice is another.

To be a public figure, particularly one whose main trademark is that of their own body, is to be vulnerable - a vulnerability that can be weaponized by some fans when they don’t receive the explanations they feel they deserve.

Sharing your personal life so closely is a choice. It’s also a game. What gets shared where and when is imperative: a quick post on stories about a rash versus a post on the grid of belly rolls or a reel captioned: “before and after I eat lunch” have different impressions on their audiences. One is more “permanent” than the other. A story post is temporary and thus seen as artificial or less important, a grid post has to be “good enough” to stand the test of time. Not making a post is perceived as acting withdrawn, secretive, even flaky. It’s interesting to think that the choice of being vulnerable online becomes an expectation of the audience. “You’ve shared so much, why not share this? What are you hiding?” Experiencing someone else’s vulnerability is a privilege, and shouldn’t become an expectation.

When I was younger, insecure, and open about it, I had a conversation with my mom that I constantly reference. I was in her car, complaining about my body, when she stopped me mid-sentence. She said “You live there. Your body has taken you from place to place for years, and mostly without thanks. The least you can do it be kind to it.”

As human beings, our weights fluctuate based on so many factors, some intentional and some not. Maybe someone had to take something out of their diet for health reasons, they had a major life change, maybe a medical condition, maybe a battle with disordered eating or body image issues. To share something physical, like your body, is one thing. To share the inner workings of your mind, your life, or your circumstances is another. Somehow, in posting about your journey in coming to love your body, you are held to the standard and expectation that you have done all of the healing necessary to be rid of all of the negative or harmful thoughts. You’re perfect. You’ve done all the work to undo this harmful stigma that has been instilled in the media and culture we’ve lived in our whole lives and beyond. This is unrealistic. When this perceived lapse occurs the person in question is, as The Times stated, “disappointing” the community they’ve fought to represent. Body positive influencers are expected to exist in a vacuum for the sake of maintaining an image fans are reliant on to maintain healthy and positive relationships with their bodies. There’s no room for error, change, or silence. This is not sustainable for any human being.

Body positivity is wonderful in theory. A movement to establish a loving relationship with yourself, become happy and even develop an “I’m so hot” attitude, but is this sustainable? I prefer the idea of body neutrality: the chance to separate your own body image from desirability, from sexualization, from anything external, and learn to accept it in every form it could be. Easier said than done, sure. We are malleable, shapeshifting, and constantly growing and changing beings. The sooner we accept that, the sooner we learn to not challenge or scrutinize it in ourselves, or others, the better. Because you deserve to be free, and so do the people you admire.

who wrote this?

jules rivera (she/they) is a writer, actor, and artist based in brooklyn, ny. from fiction to personal essays, choose-your-own-adventures, and most recently, hey jules! an advice column– what she writes changes as she does, even if she doesn't want it to. you can read their work on their substack, and also attend her monthly reading series, herbal supplements, on the last monday of every month! You can also follow them at @funkyauntjules on instagram xx

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