Sydney Sweeney’s body and name have been on the lips of critics and admirers alike since her breakthrough role in Euphoria. But this time, she’s making headlines for something far less glamorous: responding to a fresh wave of body-shaming comments. In a move that’s as effective as a well-placed uppercut, Sweeney released a video showcasing her rigorous boxing training for her upcoming role as Christy Martin.
The commentary began after the Daily Mail published photos of Sydney Sweeney’s body whilst she was sunbathing in Florida. Predictably, faceless users in the comment section took it upon themselves to critique her body, as if it were public property. As if on cue, Sweeney’s appearance became yet another battleground where men—who wouldn’t recognise “natural beauty” if it punched them in the face—voiced their disapproval.
On December 14, she posted a video to Instagram, starting with screenshots of the undeniably gross comments—leaving the usernames fully visible—before cutting to footage of herself in the gym. There she was, flipping tyres, lifting weights, and punching through her boxing drills with the precision and determination of someone embodying the legacy of Christy Martin, the legendary boxer she’s set to play in an upcoming biopic. Which may I just say, is the most iconic response I’ve seen to haters this year.
The problem is, this situation with Sydney is a microcosm of the much larger issue of men’s entitlement to women’s bodies. The same entitlement that fuels so many online comment sections where men—many hiding behind anonymous accounts—police the way women’s bodies “should” look. This entitlement is learned, and it’s learned through the relentless saturation of media imagery that positions women’s bodies as objects for consumption.
We’ve seen it before. Remember that trend from a few years back when men claimed they “preferred natural women” and, when asked for examples, they produced images of heavily made-up celebrities, completely oblivious to the fact that the “natural look” they adored was the result of makeup, lighting, filters, and hours of labour? This disconnect is symptomatic of a systematic problem of men feeling like they have ownership of women. That, as well as the constant exposure to hyper-produced images of women—whether in film, TV, advertising, or porn—warps the perception of what “natural” even looks like.
This warped perception is why men can’t recognise the irony of calling Sweeney a “catfish” for looking different in her daily life than she does in a Euphoria promo shoot. As one viral tweet aptly put it, “If you cannot recognise that a blonde woman does not wake up with jet-black eyelashes and face glitter, then you might be too stupid to reach.”
But there’s more to unpack here. Sweeney’s role as Christy Martin adds a poetic layer to this saga, don’t ya think? Martin—once the most famous female boxer in the world—challenged gender norms in the hyper-masculine world of boxing, all while surviving a harrowing attempt on her life by her abusive husband. Sweeney’s embodiment of this role, both in body and spirit, makes the body-shaming she’s faced even more poignant. Men—who have never stepped into a boxing ring—are attempting to police the body of a woman preparing to portray one of the greatest female fighters in history. Ohh the irony.
Scholar Susan Bordo explains in her book Unbearable Weight, women’s bodies have long been “textual surfaces” on which broader cultural anxieties are written. Whether it’s fear of female power, discomfort with bodily autonomy, or simple rage at a woman’s refusal to conform, it’s always women’s bodies that become the site of control. The comments on Sweeney’s body were never about her appearance—they were about power.
There’s also something telling about the way Sweeney’s critics attacked her physical strength. Her transformation into an athlete—complete with muscle definition and visible strength—challenged traditional norms of femininity. When women’s bodies take on forms that don’t exist to “please the male gaze,” backlash is inevitable. A muscular, powerful woman disrupts the fantasy of passivity and softness that’s been projected onto women’s bodies for centuries. It’s no wonder the anonymous trolls were so quick to lash out.
But let’s be clear: This wasn’t a “clapback” or “revenge post.” Those terms diminish the strategy behind Sweeney’s response. She didn’t just silence her critics—she held a mirror to them. By juxtaposing their words with footage of her boxing training, she drew a clear line between their empty critiques and her tangible, hard-earned achievements. She’s not playing their game. She’s boxing on her own terms.
It’s worth noting that Sweeney’s industry peers also rallied behind her. Comments of support came from celebrities like Madelyn Cline and Glen Powell, while Lili Reinhart succinctly called out the absurdity of it all, saying, “It’s always wild to see people publicly out-themselves as pieces of sh*t with comments like that.” This solidarity is important. It’s a reminder that women are watching, and they’re taking note of who’s standing beside them when it matters most.
Sweeney’s refusal to be a passive subject is a lesson in agency, power, and resilience. And if the trolls can’t handle that? Well, they should probably stay out of the ring.