Fit, thin, curvy and toned: the contradictory body ideals young NZ women face online

For countless people, social media has become a go-to source of advice on how to look, eat and exercise.

On Instagram and TikTok, wellness influencers push their own strict diet and workout regimens, while peddling everything from activewear to protein powders.

Invariably, they’re young, beautiful, thin and toned. Influencers such as Sommer Ray, Tammy Hembrow and Kayla Itsines have attracted tens of millions of followers by presenting highly curated versions of health, happiness and success.

There can be benefits. Many young women find fitness influencers motivating and educational, while social media can provide communities of support for those pursuing their own health and fitness goals.

But this influence – often coming from people with questionable credibility, on major platforms that lack safeguards against unsupported health advice – can also come at a cost.

Our newly published research suggests that’s particularly the case for young women trying to navigate constantly changing ideas about fitness and the “ideal” body.

Chasing constantly changing ideals

We surveyed 200 young New Zealand women about the body ideals they encountered online. They identified a sometimes contradictory mix: being lean and toned, thin, curvy, fashionable, fat-free, muscular or “thick” – with shapely buttocks and thighs.

Some 57% felt young women were under strong pressure to achieve these ideals. But they also recognised how difficult they could be to reconcile: how, for instance, do you simultaneously achieve an ideal that demands being both thin and curvy?

Read more: We have all heard social media can impact women’s body image – but it isn’t all bad

We found another contradiction. Online fitness trends such as the popular “fitspiration” are often presented in terms of empowerment, body positivity and self-love, while at the same time encouraging strict control over diet, exercise and other aspects of daily life.

For some, constantly chasing these ideals took a toll. Participants described disappointment and negative relationships with bodies that never seemed “enough”. Some feared gaining weight or found themselves continually looking for new “flaws”.

The pressure could also translate into potentially harmful behaviour. Some 17% of participants reported engaging in disordered eating practices, while others had considered cosmetic surgery. Even those who felt they had achieved an ideal body continued comparing themselves with others online – only to encounter another ideal to live up to.

Read more: If you think someone has an eating disorder, should you say something? A dietitian explains how to express concern without body shaming

And the pressure to improve did not necessarily stop with appearance.

In separate focus groups with 15 young women in the North Island, we explored experiences of the “glow up” – a social media trend that became popular during the COVID-19 pandemic centred on a visible, digitally documented transformation into a supposedly better version of yourself.

Some said the trend had motivated them to become more active and healthy. But most described pressure to transform multiple aspects of their lives, from sleep and diet to exercise and career goals.

Life itself could become a “project” aimed at becoming healthier, more successful and more attractive. Under what we termed the “glow up imperative”, many felt disappointed when they could not match the transformations presented by fitness influencers.

Aware of the harm, but hard to escape

Our research found young women were generally aware of – and critical of – rapidly changing and often contradictory body ideals.

As one participant put it:

Only 20 years ago [it was] ideal to be thin with small breasts and [butts]. Now the standards have changed where thin abdomen, larger breasts and butts are the ideal, but most types of muscle definition is unattractive. Many people feel pressured to follow these ideals in order to feel loved and accepted.

Recognising these pressures, however, didn’t make them easy to escape. Participants described social media as “inescapable” and present in their lives “24/7”, with some feeling unable to switch off even when they wanted to.

Many suggested ways of managing that exposure themselves, such as unfollowing harmful accounts or taking a “digital detox” to spend more time on offline activities such as sport or journalling.

Education can also help young people recognise and navigate harmful content. But relying on individual action places much of the responsibility on the same young women being exposed to it.

This raises a wider question about where responsibility for reducing harm should lie.

Focusing on what young women can do themselves risks overlooking the role of social media platforms and the algorithms that determine what users see – and which can repeatedly amplify popular trends and unrealistic body ideals.

Our findings suggest tackling these harms will require more than asking young women to change their own online behaviour. At the same time, their experiences should be central to solutions to address this complex problem.