A Bad Day for Fat Liberty

And liberty, everywhere.

In Dundee, Scotland, fat kids from a non-neglectful household are being put up for adoption by the state because their parents failed to ‘slim them down.’

Seriously.

Fuck.

I’ve written a few times about how the loss of the individual right to body autonomy and the moral panic over fat can lead to such an outcome, that it was one of the many steps on the road of divesting fat people of their civil rights — that is, in criminalizing fatness.

For everyone who thinks fat hate and fatphobia is no big deal, and is just a personal health issue, please read this and think again.

Send Away the Fat Kids

Shudder-worthy article today: Task force: Screen kids, obesity treatment works

An influential advisory panel says school-aged youngsters and teens should be screened for obesity and sent to intensive behavior treatment if they need to lose weight — a move that could transform how doctors deal with overweight children.

Needless to say, sanity watchers points required when reading the entire article.

Ugh, this kind of thing makes me sick…such blatant ‘othering,’ such a huge expense, for: “…intensive treatment can help children lose several pounds — enough for obese kids to drop into the “overweight” category, making them less prone to diabetes and other health problems.”

Several pounds? Twice a week appointments, group ‘therapy’ meant to brainwash children that feeding themselves and/or not having a cookie-cutter body type is a sign of being broken and bad?

Ugh, ugh, ugh. What are your thoughts?

The Self-Loathing of our Parents

This started as a comment on Chrissy’s post “Compliments and Good Intentions.”

I began my experiment with non-restrictive “normal” eating about two years ago, and since then I’ve moved up to about the size I was before I started restrictive eating (a size 24, which I wore when I was 15 y/o. I’m 25 y/o, now). When I was moving down in sizes, you couldn’t dam the flood of compliments I got. No one asked *how* I did it, of course, and if they did, would they have liked the answer? (“I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning, and that was a fat-free Fig Newton. Oh yes, and I’m also taking diet pills with ephedrine, whee!” )

I’ve noticed that my experiment has generated, rather than insults, a great sucking void with respect to my appearance. When I was starving in high school I used to get all sorts of proud compliments from my father, my stepmother (and worried remarks from my mom — she’s the only one who had her head screwed on straight), my friends, my grandmother, my extended family…and do you know I haven’t gotten a single body-referential remark since I gained back the weight? It must be because they’re so happy I’m not longer eating-disordered and are now respectful of my humanity and unmindful of what I look like, right?

Maybe not. My dad speaks with pride that my four year-old little sister is skinny as a rail, and treats her chubbier little sister (two years old) with far less respect. Weird? Should I mention he considers, “Hey, have you lost weight?” the biggest compliment of his own self in the book? Yes, he’s a self-loather. Does that mean I have to be, too?

It’s hard escaping the personal values and expectations of your parents, but I think the most important part of the journey is to realize that their personal emphasis on thin(ner)ness = success is just that — their personal emphasis. I frankly pity my Dad, because I know how unhappy he is, loathing his naturally fat body, fighting against it, coveting the rail-thin body of my stepmother and his adopted daughter. That’s really, really sad, and once I realized the issue was not with me but with him, I was free to let melt away the anger, indignation, confusion, and disappointment I felt in his estimation of my body. It was never really me he was seeing, you know. It was himself.