Please Don't Show Me

When I was growing up in the 50s and 60s of the last century, discretion was highly valued. My parents were sure to close all windows before a marital spat lest the neighbors overhear. The words "cancer" and "depression" were never uttered above a whisper and one's finances were one's business. Pregnancy was covered with enormous, shapeless garments and homosexuality was not a source of pride but rather a shameful secret stuffed in a closet.

Like much antiquated thinking, those old standards of behavior have pretty much fallen into obscurity, replaced by candor in all things medical, financial and sexual. This is a good thing. But surely we can all agree there can be too much of a good thing, like just now, when I ventured online with my morning coffee and saw photographs of a young woman posing in a skimpy bikini with her colostomy bag front and center.

I am sorry she has a disease that brought about the loss of her stomach, and I agree that she is quite pretty and hope she has a full and wonderful life. But her desire to be a bathing suit model despite her obvious physical flaw is just plain stupid. Sometimes you really do want the windows shut.


Illustration by Andi Libberton Bird