When fitness coach Jack Bly fired off a Twitter thread titled “5 Reasons ‘Body Positivity’ Is Evil,” he probably expected a little pushback. What he got instead was a full-on internet brawl: quote tweets, think pieces, and eventually a Bored Panda feature that turned one man’s hot take into a global debate about the body positivity movement, health, and what it really means to “love your body.”
Some people applauded him for finally “saying what everyone’s thinking.” Others argued he was just rebranding old-fashioned fat-shaming with a motivational filter. And in the middle sat a lot of confused readers who agreed the body positivity movement has problems, but still remembered how life-changing it felt to hear “Your body isn’t wrong” for the first time.
So is body positivity actually toxic? Is calling it “evil” helpful or just clickbait with protein powder? Let’s unpack the viral thread, the Bored Panda discussion, and the bigger picture around body image, mental health, and the ways a movement that started as radical activism can morph into something much messier online.
How One Twitter Thread Turned Into a Bored Panda Debate
In July 2021, Bored Panda spotlighted Jack Bly’s now-famous “5 Reasons ‘Body Positivity’ Is Evil” thread, where he argued that the body positivity movement has gone off the rails by celebrating obesity, elevating feelings over facts, and spreading what he believes is harmful misinformation about health and weight.
In an interview with Bored Panda, Bly drew a sharp line between what he calls “true body positivity” and what he sees on social media. He said he supports body positivity for things we can’t controlsuch as scars, disabilities, or genetic traitsbut believes it becomes dangerous when it’s used to justify clearly unhealthy habits like extreme overeating or ignoring serious medical advice about weight and related conditions.
The comment section and social media reactions were intense. Some praised Bly for “telling the truth” about obesity and public health. Others accused him of weaponizing concern for health to shame bigger bodies and ignore the reality of weight stigma, discrimination, and the mental health fallout that comes with living in a body society constantly criticizes.
The Bored Panda piece itself took a more neutral tone, emphasizing that body positivity and fitness are “sticky and nuanced topics.” That nuance is exactly where the real conversation needs to livefar away from headlines that declare a whole movement “evil,” but also beyond the glossy, hashtag-ready version of self-love that dominates Instagram.
What Body Positivity Was Supposed to Be
Before it became a pastel-colored Instagram aesthetic, body positivity began as a radical, often confrontational movement led largely by fat-acceptance activists. The original goal wasn’t to sell cute T-shirts with “Love your body!” slogansit was to challenge structural discrimination, medical bias, and the idea that only thin bodies deserve respect.
Research on weight stigma backs up just how necessary that work is. Studies have shown that people in larger bodies are more likely to face discrimination at work, in healthcare, and even in close relationships. Weight-based teasing and bullying are linked to higher rates of depression, anxiety, and disordered eating. Being shamed for your body doesn’t make you healthier; it usually just makes you miserable and less likely to seek medical help when you need it.
Movements like Health at Every Size (HAES) emerged to push back against weight-only approaches in medicine. Instead of fixating on the number on the scale, HAES emphasizes behaviorslike balanced eating, joyful movement, adequate sleep, and stress managementwhile also addressing the real harm of weight stigma. The goal isn’t to deny that weight can be related to health; it’s to stop treating weight as the only thing that matters.
Somewhere along the way, though, the public version of body positivity shifted. The activist roots got buried under influencer content, brand campaigns, and “perfectly imperfect” photos that somehow still featured conventionally attractive bodies. And that’s where a lot of the criticism starts to make sense.
5 Ways the Body Positivity Movement Can Turn Toxic
You don’t have to agree that body positivity is “evil” to admit that it has a dark sideespecially in its social-media form. Here are five real issues critics point to, along with why the conversation is more complicated than a yes/no verdict.
1. When “Love Your Body” Becomes “Ignore Your Health”
One of Bly’s core arguments is that body positivity encourages people to ignore serious health problems. He and others worry that framing any concern about weight as “fatphobia” shuts down necessary conversations between patients and healthcare providers.
It’s true that obesity is linked to higher risks for conditions like type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and certain cancers. It’s also true that healthcare systems can be incredibly biased against people in larger bodies, sometimes dismissing every complaint with a lazy “just lose weight” instead of offering real diagnostics and treatment.
The problem isn’t acknowledging that weight can affect health; it’s pretending that health doesn’t matter at all. If “loving your body” means never getting blood work, never listening to your doctor, and brushing off serious symptoms because “criticism is toxic,” that’s not empowermentthat’s denial in a cute font.
A healthier version of body positivity doesn’t require you to ignore medical reality. It says, “You deserve respect at every sizeand you also deserve honest, compassionate information about your health.” Those two ideas are not enemies unless we force them to be.
2. When Feelings Are Treated as More Important Than Facts
Another thread in the “body positivity is evil” argument is the claim that the movement elevates feelings above facts. Critics say that if someone feels healthy, that doesn’t magically erase diagnosed conditions or objective risk factors.
To be fair, feelings are incredibly important. Body image research shows that body dissatisfaction is strongly linked to lower self-esteem and a higher risk of disordered eating. Helping people feel less ashamed of their bodies can absolutely improve their mental health and quality of life.
But there’s also a danger in swinging so far toward “my truth” that we stop allowing any room for uncomfortable data. Someone can feel more confident after unfollowing toxic diet accounts and still need to manage high blood pressure. You can celebrate your right to exist without harassment and still acknowledge lab results that need attention.
The real issue isn’t “facts vs. feelings”; it’s how we talk about facts. Medical information delivered with shame tends to backfire. The same information delivered with empathy and respect, however, can be life-changing. Body positivity goes off the rails when it frames all facts as inherently oppressive, instead of insisting those facts be communicated in humane, non-shaming ways.
3. When “Positive Vibes Only” Turns Into Toxic Positivity
If you’ve ever scrolled through #bodypositivity and thought, “Apparently I’m supposed to love every roll and stretch mark 24/7 or I’m failing,” you’ve met toxic body positivity.
Mental health experts use the term “toxic positivity” to describe the pressure to be relentlessly upbeatno matter what you actually feel. That pressure can make people feel broken for having normal human emotions like sadness, frustration, or insecurity. When this mindset seeps into body image, it sounds like:
- “If you don’t love your body, you’re not doing body positivity right.”
- “No bad body days allowedonly self-love!”
- “You’re beautiful just the way you are, so stop complaining.”
That might look supportive on the surface, but it subtly shuts down honest conversation. Someone dealing with trauma, chronic illness, or an eating disorder might need space to say, “I hate how my body feels right now,” without being slapped with a “good vibes only” comment.
Real healing requires room for the full spectrum of emotions. A healthier approach says, “Your feelings about your body are validand you still deserve care, respect, and a life that isn’t ruled by mirror anxiety.” That’s not negativity; that’s emotional honesty.
4. When Corporations Turn Body Positivity Into a Costume
Remember when every brand suddenly discovered “inclusive sizing” and “real beauty” campaigns? For a hot minute, it looked like body positivity had won. Plus-size models, cellulite in commercials, and runways with actual diversityit was a big deal.
Fast forward a few years, and that energy has cooled. Plus-size models and body-positive advocates have spoken out about being quietly pushed aside as thinness trends back into styleboosted in part by the explosion of injectable weight-loss drugs. It’s a whiplash-inducing reminder that while movements are about people, marketing campaigns are about sales.
When body positivity becomes a brand aesthetic, not a commitment, it’s easy to swap it out the moment it stops converting. One season you’re “all bodies welcome,” and the next you’re back to sample sizes and airbrushed absjust with a different hashtag.
This doesn’t mean every body-positive campaign was fake. It does mean we should be skeptical when corporations preach self-love while selling insecurity in the next ad. The movement’s idealsending stigma, expanding representation, and centering dignityare too important to be treated as a seasonal trend.
5. When It Leaves Out People Who Just Can’t “Love Their Body”
One of the strongest critiques of the movement, especially from therapists and people in recovery from eating disorders, is that the command to “love your body” is simply too high a bar for many peopleat least right now.
Survivors of trauma, people with chronic pain, those living with visible differences, and anyone who has spent decades hating their reflection are not going to overnight-switch into radiant self-love because a stranger on Instagram told them to. For some, that demand actually increases shame: now they feel bad about their body and bad about not feeling good about their body.
That’s part of why “body neutrality” has gained traction. Instead of insisting you feel beautiful at all times, neutrality says, “Your body doesn’t have to be a source of joy or pride today; it can just be a body that you live in.” The focus shifts from appearance to functionWhat can my body do? How can I care for it even when I don’t like how it looks?
For many people, that middle ground is less overwhelming and more realistic. It’s also a reminder that the true goal isn’t to force everyone into the same emotional experience, but to reduce the suffering created by shame, stigma, and unrealistic expectations.
Why Calling Body Positivity “Evil” Still Misses the Point
With all those real problems, you might be tempted to agree with Bly and declare the whole thing “evil.” But that label flattens a very complex reality.
On one side, we have solid evidence that body dissatisfaction is associated with poorer mental health, higher rates of eating disorders, and lower quality of life. Any movement that helps people move away from self-loathing and toward greater self-acceptance can be a protective force.
On the other side, we have valid concerns about how some versions of body positivity discourage medical care, romanticize unhealthy behaviors, or tie self-worth too tightly to appearanceeven if it’s “positive” appearance.
Declaring the movement “evil” doesn’t actually solve either problem. It doesn’t dismantle weight stigma, and it doesn’t help people who feel stuck between a rock (diet culture) and a hard place (toxic positivity). It mainly generates clicks, outrage, and maybe a few new followers for whoever said it loudest.
A more helpful approach is to ask better questions:
- How can we keep the anti-stigma, pro-dignity heart of body positivity?
- How do we make room for medical reality without shaming anyone’s body?
- How do we support people who don’t feel positive about their bodiesat all?
Those questions don’t fit neatly in a headline, but they’re where real change actually happens.
What a Healthier Middle Ground Can Look Like
For many people, the sweet spot lies somewhere between “hate your body thin” and “love your body no matter what.” That middle ground includes:
- Body neutrality: You don’t have to feel beautiful; you just have to treat your body with basic respect.
- Weight-inclusive healthcare: Doctors address behaviors and symptoms, not just the number on the scale, and they do it without shaming language.
- Media literacy: People learn to recognize filters, editing, and trends like “SkinnyTok” for what they arecurated content, not health advice.
- Emotional honesty: We stop forcing relentless optimism and start allowing people to say, “I’m struggling,” without being told to “just love yourself.”
This middle ground doesn’t have the instant gratification of a dramatic hot take. It can’t be summed up in a single meme. But it has one huge advantage over “body positivity is evil” or “every body is perfect, the end”: it actually leaves room for real human beings, with real health concerns, real trauma, and real complexity.
In that space, body positivity isn’t the villain or the heroit’s just one tool. Sometimes it’s exactly the right one. Sometimes it needs to be replaced with something more grounded, like neutrality, compassion, or quiet, shame-free curiosity about what health could look like for you.
Real-Life Experiences With the “Body Positivity Is Evil” Debate
If you scroll through the Bored Panda comments on Jack Bly’s thread, Reddit discussions, or TikTok stitches of similar hot takes, you start to see patterns in how people experience this debate in real life. Here are a few composite examples that reflect common stories people sharenot exact individuals, but familiar roles you’ll recognize.
The Former Chronic Dieter Who’s Torn
Picture someone who spent years bouncing from one crash diet to the next. They knew every calorie of every food, could recite carb counts like song lyrics, and still felt like a failure every time the weight came back. Discovering body positivity was a lifeline at first. Finally, someone said, “You are more than your body. You deserve respect even if you never lose another pound.”
For them, the movement wasn’t about “celebrating obesity”; it was about stepping off the shame treadmill long enough to breathe. But after a while, they noticed something else: in some corners of the community, any talk about wanting to change your habits was treated like betrayal. Saying “I actually feel better when I exercise” could get you accused of internalized fatphobia.
When they see a headline like “body positivity is evil,” they feel split. On the one hand, it erases how much the movement helped them reclaim their life. On the other, they understand the frustration with a version of body positivity that refuses to let anyone talk about health, fatigue, or joint pain without being told to “just love yourself harder.”
The Patient Caught Between a Judgmental Doctor and a Hashtag
Another common story comes from people who walk into a doctor’s office with a specific concernknee pain, fatigue, shortness of breathand walk out with one prescription: “Lose weight.” No imaging, no labs, no questions about lifestyle or stress levels. Just a lecture and a handout.
After a few experiences like that, they start following body-positive creators who say, “You deserve better care. You’re more than a number. Find a provider who treats you like a whole human.” That message is powerful and, frankly, long overdue.
But somewhere along the line, the pendulum can swing too far. They might start seeing posts that label any mention of weight as inherently harmful, or that dismiss all medical research on obesity as fatphobic propaganda. Now they’re trapped between a doctor who won’t look past the scale and online spaces that won’t let them talk about genuine concerns like high blood sugar or sleep apnea without calling it “diet culture.”
For this person, the “body positivity is evil” conversation isn’t theoretical. It’s about how to navigate a health system that stigmatizes them and a social media landscape that sometimes romanticizes ignoring health altogether.
The Creator Burned Out on Being a “Body-Positive Role Model”
Then there are influencers who built an audience by posting unfiltered photos, sharing their cellulite and rolls as a way to normalize real bodies. At first, the experience is empowering and community-building. DMs pour in: “Because of you, I wore shorts for the first time in years.” “I finally went to the beach without a cover-up.”
Over time, though, the pressure mounts. They’re expected to be a 24/7 symbol of confidence and self-love, even on days when they’re exhausted, bloated, or just tired of talking about their thighs. If they admit to struggling with their image, followers may accuse them of “selling out” the movement. If they post about working with a trainer or trying new habits, they risk backlash for “promoting diet culture.”
Some of these creators quietly step back, not because they stopped believing in dignity for all bodies, but because being the internet’s “proof that you can love yourself at any size” became its own suffocating expectation. They know body positivity isn’t evilbut they also know that the way audiences consume it can be.
Why These Experiences Matter
These kinds of stories are why the conversation around body positivity’s “toxicity” won’t go away. People are living in the tension between:
- The relief of finally hearing that their body isn’t wrong or unworthy.
- The frustration of being told that wanting to feel physically better is a betrayal of the cause.
- The pain of medical stigma and bias, wrapped in “I’m just worried about your health.”
- The exhaustion of pretending to feel beautiful all the time for the sake of a hashtag.
When someone like Jack Bly calls body positivity “evil,” he’s pressing on very real pain pointsbut he’s also oversimplifying a messy, human reality. The people in these stories don’t need another extreme slogan. They need nuanced, compassionate space to pursue both self-respect and health without being shamed from either direction.
That’s the bigger takeaway from the Bored Panda discussion: not that body positivity is pure good or pure evil, but that how we use itonline, in clinics, in comment sections, and in our own headsmatters far more than any viral thread ever will.