Why it matters that Rosalia has lost weight: we talk again about our bodies

PalmaLadies, we've betrayed ourselves. I, honestly, I try. We had agreed that we wouldn't think about our bodies anymore. We were all in favor of this collective delirium together. What? Advertising because “if you start in June, with this bikini operation you'll be unrecognizable in July”? It doesn't affect me. Capri pants are back in fashion, pants in which, even if they're my size, my thighs will never fit? I couldn't care less. What? You say you've gained weight and you look terrible? After telling you you're gorgeous, I won't think about myself at all, nor will I ask myself if I should worry too.

I, honestly, I try. But I can't continue, because our visual role models of women are literally fading away. I can no longer ignore what's happening with bodies like Rosalía's, Nathy Peluso's, and Alexa Demie's (Maddy Perez, in Euphoria). Okay, bodies change and most of the time we don't know the reasons or the goals. However, the trend is always the same, especially when status rises. Thinness comes right after success. Or just before. We'll never know if it's the confirmation or the price to pay.

With success, bodies almost never change in the opposite direction: they almost never expand, they almost never widen. Let's talk about media bodies: they are not the norm, but they are the mainstream. Just like the mainstream is Paula Gonu in a video where she tries to help you justify that you've gained weight with this melodramatic speech that has gone viral: “You've gained 2 kg? Maybe it was the other day, when you met your friends for dinner and had such a good time. Or last week, when your mom and aunt cooked your favorite dish for you.” All while normalizing that we torture ourselves over it. Taking for granted that we need a solid enough justification not to feel bad. All this, while she's wearing a tiny top to go do Hyrox. Oh, of course.

Why do I feel like we want to be thin again? It's a latent sensation: one day it's cheekbones so defined they make me envious, another day it's toned arms or prominent collarbones. And, phew, confusion. Would I be better off like this? For a long time, we were clear that we were no longer interested in being thin. We let our guard down. And we wanted to be smart, interesting, mysterious. We set ourselves other goals, as if they weren't another burden. They were just as demanding, perhaps less violent. At least, they didn't attack our physical integrity.

For a very short period of time, we pretended not to care about our bodies. It was right after the extremely heavy body positive, another instrument of capitalism and, in some cases, of sexism. If body positive was not a triumph, it is because it made us responsible and blamed us, once again, for our relationship with our bodies. Instead of wanting to change the way we scrutinize ourselves, we were asked to – simply – deactivate it from our brains. The world would continue to be the same, and we had to take care of protecting ourselves from it. The reasons for hating our bodies had not disappeared, but now we could no longer let them affect us, because we had to love ourselves "as we are". In other words, we hated ourselves just as much, but with guilt.

More than loving our bodies, we have ended up ignoring them. Being a woman and loving your body is a lot of work, so we have opted for it, at least, not to bother us. Thus, we have ended up carrying it with us, from one place to another, resigned, like a handbag that, even if we don't love it, serves its purpose. We have become so bored of talking about the body that we no longer know if we are avoiding it, the body or the act of talking about it. For me, at least, this discomfort has settled in: another layer of sediment in the relationship with the physical.

In my brain, a mental spring deactivates any thought related to wanting to modify my body. Automatically, it becomes inhibited, just to avoid its possible effects. I have managed to ignore all this and also what transformations like those of Rosalía, Nathy Peluso, and Alexa Demie want to tell me. I have tried to protect myself for so long from these bodies, that I have annulled the internal voice that wants to be like them and, at the same time, the voice that gets angry and complains. I thought that by making myself immune to any hegemonic physique I was protecting myself – from wanting it, from blaming myself, from not loving myself. And what I was doing was dismantling my rage. I, truly, have tried. But I have thought about our body again. And I don't know if I will be able to stop.