I’ve never really been all that happy with the way I look, especially when needlessly comparing myself to others. The fact that I looked around and saw a seemingly infinite number of people who were stronger, faster and more comfortable with who they were made me feel so small by comparison. So much so, that I broke down in front of a counselor when prompted to talk openly about it. From that point on, I decided to do something about it. I joined the gym, paid more attention to what I ate, and slowly the results started to show. But, this is not the beginning of some miraculous change. Years later, I’m still not especially happy with my body, even if I feel much better than I used to. Access to my university gym has gone a long way to helping me feel confident in my own skin.
I’m not saying that gyms are a positive place for everyone. They can be toxic, unwelcoming environments for far too many people, and this is something that has to be addressed. Leaving aside that this can vary enormously depending what gym you go to, and the support it offers, this is not my experience. If anything, I am fortunate enough to feel less self-conscious in a gym. I feel inspired by those doing exercises I had never previously thought of, welcomed by supportive staff, and in awe at the sheer range of equipment and opportunities on offer. The gym became an essential part of my wellbeing routine at university. The one place I could shut out the outside world and focus on myself. Earlier this year, I had never felt better in my own skin. I felt like I was finally making the progress I had craved.
And then the pandemic hit. Gyms – along with almost everywhere else – were forced to shut their doors. Suddenly I was at a loss. The support network I had relied on, to help me carry on with my fitness journey, was ripped up from under me. My old insecurities returned as I was forced to spend more time with my own, imperfect body. Just me, some belly fat and a bed that felt ever more like the coffin inside my incarcerating little crypt.
Saturated in a doomed new routine, there were many days where I would just look down on myself, frowning at how my health had taken such a turn. I might not have looked much worse – I didn’t trust my eyes to tell the whole story – but I felt worse. Encouraged by my partner, who was also reeling from the closure of gyms, I tried home exercise videos. I definitely found some good ones during this period – the likes of Tribe Yoga in Edinburgh, or the slew of videos from The Body Coach Joe Wicks, Yet it felt empty. There was no human connection, no feedback on form and position – so crucial for getting the most out of exercise – and nobody else to motivate me as I went from one move to the next. Too many videos also have a warped idea of what ‘beginner’ really means. Even videos labelled this way still expect you to be able to, for example, touch your toes, which I simply can’t. This is just one example of how certain levels of ability are always assumed. For even the lowest bar to feel so far away is as unhelpful as it is demotivating.
My feeling of helplessness only became more salient as time went on. Like many people during lockdown, I felt ever more exhausted. Even now I am still so tired almost constantly. Gyms gave me the adrenaline rush I needed to give my all at exercise and feel good afterwards. Standing in my bedroom with a buffering video telling me what to do could not give me the same energy. And, just like that, my health started to slip away from me.
My story is hardly unique. Millions of people all over the world are experiencing increased isolation and helplessness as a result of the pandemic. What I was discovering first-hand was how this intersected with the issue of male body image and its association with wellbeing. The Mental Health Foundation reports that 28% of men report anxiety over their body image. 22% have negatively compared themselves to others. Most distressingly, 11% of men surveyed said they had experienced suicidal thoughts and 4% reported deliberately harming themselves because of their body image issues. Thankfully, I fall into neither of the latter two percentage groups. However, these figures illustrate starkly how body image and self-perception are tied to another epidemic that grips the UK – suicide, the biggest killer of men under the age of 45.
More than one in ten of the men surveyed (11%) have experienced suicidal thoughts and feelings because of body image issues and 4% of male respondents also said they had deliberately hurt themselves because of body image issues.
Mental Health Foundation, November 2019
It’s worth pointing out that this issue is not unique to men. Nor is this about valuing the struggles of men over those of anybody else. It is about realising how a well-researched, regularly reported relationship between male mental health, suicide rates and body image can play out at the level of the individual. At times I felt stuck in a rut, but at others I actually felt grateful. My mind would wander to think of male peers who may well be struggling even more than myself. It is their hardship that gives discussions such as this value.
Lockdown will have only exacerbated all of these issues. Compounded with increased feelings and experiences of isolation, I am sure that I am not alone in having a worsening perception of my body image as the pandemic has progressed. What doesn’t help is that the hypermasculine imagery of the ‘male ideal’ has not disappeared even throughout lockdown, at a time when our reliance on social media has only heightened. The likes of Rob McElhenney and Kumail Nanjiani are recent examples of influential figures who have had their physical transformations light up Instagram stories and Twitter feeds all over the world. To their credit, both McElhenney and Nanjiani were very clear about how such sudden physical changes are unrealistic. Nevertheless, this proliferation of muscular men, who by their own admission have taken things to the extremes, has negative effects on male body satisfaction and self-worth. I am just a small part of this larger pattern, a pattern that has continued into lockdown.
Male body image is a sensitive topic, and just one of the measures and superficial standards imposed by society. It is a poisonous measurement of human value, and it continues to negatively affect men all over the world. As I have found out, lockdown has only made these feelings worse. But, you are not powerless in these situations. As best as you can, try to focus on the things that will make you feel good. Go for a long walk, prepare a healthy but filling meal for yourself, or relax with some television. Or do nothing. There should be no demands placed on anybody to go out of their comfort zones for the sake of satisfying others’ expectations. Your happiness is the most important thing, and for many people happiness is directly associated with physical health. This is why the closure of gyms – while understandable – has taken such a toll on people’s wellbeing. For men, already pressurised into meeting many unattainable standards, it is yet another hurdle that can at times feel insurmountable.
Words by James Hanton.
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