Social media has the ability to uninvitedly turn a person’s body into a group project. As soon as Sol Mỹa, the 24-year-old bombshell who debuted in Love Island USA Season 8 during Episode 6, began to appear on fans’ feeds, someone pointed to her figure in a comment section and initiated a conversation that she never participated in. Questions about whether Sol had put on weight surfaced in discussion threads. Screenshots were shared. As usual, opinions developed quickly.
The problem is that Sol was already having a much more open discussion about her body than any of those threads could get to. She was publicly discussing her dislike of her chest and desire for a second breast reduction on TikTok, while the internet was occupied with discussing her midsection. It cuts right through the clutter and is the kind of candor that reality TV seldom produces.
During what she referred to as the “COVID era,” Sol disclosed that she had had the procedure, which reduced her bust from a 38DD to roughly a 36C. The choice had nothing to do with esthetics, at least not in the conventional sense. She talked about having persistent back pain for years and constantly stretching to make up for the weight that tugged at her body.
She said, “I actually was that friend that was like stretching every five seconds because it’s heavy,” in the video. Because the procedure was medically necessary rather than elective in the conventional sense, insurance covered it. Nevertheless, the insecurity persisted even after the reduction. “I f—ing hate them,” she stated bluntly. “I would get another breast reduction, honestly.”
People are often taken aback by such an admission. The way we discuss bodies, particularly women’s bodies on reality TV, is infused with a cultural presumption that larger bodies are desirable, curves are ideal, and confidence and breast size go hand in hand. Without any PR polish or a well-crafted statement from a publicist, Sol essentially dismantled all of that in a two-minute clip.
In many respects, the weight gain narrative that proliferated in fan communities served as an example of how easily people can adopt the most convenient framing. Variations in the body are normal. This is something that anyone who has experienced medical procedures, physical stress, or just the passing of a few years can attest to.
That’s what Sol’s supporters said right away, and they were right. Watching a public figure’s appearance become the focus of crowdsourced analysis is genuinely draining, particularly when that figure is young, already juggling the demands of a national television appearance, and coping with the kind of physical discomfort Sol described.
Years ago, former Love Island contestant Erin Alysha wrote publicly about a similar experience: gaining 10 kg after ovarian surgeries and finding it difficult to reconcile that new body with the person she had always seen in the mirror. “I’ve shut myself off from social activities because I’m embarrassed about how I look in clothes now,” she said. It’s a sentiment that strikes a chord because it’s so prevalent and subtly devastating. The Instagram grid is typically seen by the general public. Seldom does it notice what’s beneath it.
In Sol’s case, things are a little different because she has been able to enter the conversation on her own initiative rather than being forced into it. It’s difficult to tell if that was instinctive or deliberate. It’s possible that someone with her modeling experience—she had worked in fashion and commercials prior to the villa—just has a better grasp of how narrative and image work. Perhaps she is simply the type of person who would prefer to speak the uncomfortable truth rather than allow a false narrative to fill the void.
Seeing a young woman talk candidly about body image, chronic pain, and the medical reality of a physical alteration she made years ago is a whole other story. It doesn’t neatly fit into a thread or caption. However, this is the actual one.
