Meghan Trainor, Body Positivity, and the Queer Gaze: Why Her Weight Loss Backlash Hits Different

Meghan Trainor is no stranger to turning personal experience into pop anthems. From the moment “All About That Bass” hit the airwaves, she’s been championing self-acceptance and body positivity, often positioning herself as an unapologetic advocate for loving the skin you’re in. But this week, after revealing a 60-pound weight loss, the singer found herself at the center of a social media firestorm—not for celebrating her transformation, but for being criticized over it.

“Of all the times to drag me, that’s when people attack me?” Trainor told Entertainment Weekly, addressing the unexpected pushback from some corners of the internet. “I’ve never felt better and I look incredible” . Her words—equal parts bewilderment and defiance—echo a dilemma that resonates deeply within LGBTQ+ communities: Why are our bodies so often policed, no matter what we do with them?

Trainor’s journey is intensely personal—she’s a mother of two, balancing the demands of family, fame, and self-care. Yet, her body has become a public spectacle, dissected and debated by strangers. This is a dynamic many queer people know all too well. Our bodies, our gender expressions, and even our health choices are scrutinized, politicized, and often weaponized in the court of public opinion .

For Trainor, the criticism stings not because she’s lost the weight, but because it feels like a betrayal of the very body-positive message she’s long championed. The expectation seems to be that she should remain unchanged, as if her value lies solely in representing a particular shape or size. “It’s like you can never win,” Trainor noted in the interview .

This “never win” paradigm is painfully familiar for LGBTQ+ individuals who have spent lifetimes being told what’s acceptable—how to dress, how to love, how to look. The queer community, historically forced to navigate a world of rigid binaries and limited scripts, has always been at the forefront of redefining beauty and self-worth. Trainor’s story isn’t just about weight loss; it’s about the freedom to choose your own journey, on your own terms.

For queer folks, body autonomy is inseparable from liberation. Whether it’s a trans person transitioning, a non-binary person rejecting beauty standards, or a gay man embracing flamboyance, the act of claiming your body is a radical assertion of self. The policing of Meghan Trainor’s body—first for being “too much,” then for becoming “less”—mirrors the double binds that LGBTQ+ people face daily .

What does it mean to be “authentic” when every choice is up for debate? Trainor’s answer seems clear: “I’ve never felt better.” For a community that has fought for the right to exist authentically, this is more than a soundbite—it’s a manifesto.

Social media, for all its pitfalls, has become a space for queer and allied voices to push back on toxic narratives. Fans and LGBTQ+ advocates flooded Trainor’s comments with support, celebrating her for prioritizing her health and happiness over public expectation . In queer circles, her journey is seen as a reminder that body positivity is not about size, but about autonomy.

The body positivity movement has, at times, been co-opted by the mainstream, stripped of its radical roots in fat activism, queer liberation, and anti-racism . Meghan Trainor’s saga is a call to remember that the original aim was never to prescribe a single “right” way to have a body—but to reject the idea that bodies need permission to exist as they are.

For LGBTQ+ communities, this is especially urgent. Transgender people still face barriers to accessing gender-affirming healthcare . Queer youth are bombarded by unattainable beauty ideals, leading to disproportionate rates of eating disorders and body dysmorphia . In this context, every act of visible self-love is a win.

Meghan Trainor’s story is more than a celebrity headline—it’s a reminder that our bodies are not public property. Whether we gain, lose, or simply exist, our worth is not up for debate. “I look incredible,” she says, and in that declaration, she joins a chorus of queer voices insisting on the right to define ourselves, for ourselves.

As we celebrate Pride and reflect on what it means to be visible and validated, let’s remember the true heart of body positivity: joy, autonomy, and, above all, the freedom to live as our truest selves—no explanation required.