Feministe » Thoughts about Italy

The second half of this post on differences in bodily display between Europe and the US really spoke to me. I remember the first time I went to a swimming hall here in Norway. I hadn’t realized it when I’d agreed to go swimming, but the posted rules required swimmers to strip off their suits completely and shower in a communal shower before entering the pool. I was a little shocked at first, but I managed to strip off my suit, shower, and enter the pool with little ado. It probably helped that I was with another large friend and her even-larger-than-me husband.

Since then, I haven’t had any difficulties stripping naked in locker rooms, being in a swimsuit in public bathing areas, or showing some skin in the summer. I know that size acceptance was what’s helped me the most here, but I don’t think I’d have been able to use this skill of showing myself without shame if it hadn’t been for the nonchalant environment here. People just accept that some people are fat. I feel like just another part of the scenery, and not in a bad way. I don’t feel like a freak at all when I’m naked or scantily clad in public, not like I would expect to feel in the US. I think a lot of fat people–a lot of people, in general, actually–would benefit by spending a summer in Europe, swimming and just being in the streets.

Johannes and I were watching The Manchurian Candidate the other day, and someone asked the protagonist this question. I automatically bristled, as I’ve been asked that question quite a few times in the past, but I didn’t think about it much more at the time. I’ve had some time to think about it now, and I know why I despise this question:

1. It’s extremely condescending. It places the questioner over the questionee in the hierarchy of mental stability.
2. It implies that the questionee is incapable of taking care of herself.
3. It implies that the questionee is behaving or speaking as inappropriately as (the stereotypes of) a psychiatric patient who needs to be medicated but isn’t.
4. It implies that the questionee is incapable of judging whether or not her actions or words are appropriate.
5. It implies that the questionee is unfit in her un-medicated state.

So don’t ever ask me whether or not I’ve been taking my meds. It’s hard enough for a psychiatric patient to make the decision to take psychotropic drugs. For some of us, it’s hard enough to be med-compliant. We also have to struggle with issues of identity–am I still me when I’m on the meds? When I was on the meds, I couldn’t manage anything, and now I can–so can it be me who’s accomplishing things now? This thoughtless question only makes med-compliance more difficult because it reinforces the idea that you’re not you when you’re on your meds, and you-off-meds isn’t acceptable. It’s hard enough to deal with these issues–we damn sure don’t need to deal with this kind of paternalism to boot. So kindly stop and think before you ask someone this question.