Bel Mooney: Can I tell my sister her online snaps are too racy?

Dear Bel,

I need an honest perspective. I’m genuinely torn as to what to do. My sister is a few years older: bright, educated, artistically talented and caring. The whole family adores her. As sisters, the only children in the family, we were the apple of everyone’s eyes.

She has always been overweight. I’ve been aware of how this has affected her confidence over the years. She always wore black, thinking it was slimming, and always a size bigger, to hide herself away.

A couple of years ago she discovered a clothing company that is wonderful for plus-size women, and has an awesome social media presence. They are inclusive, empowering and brilliant.

Soon, my sister was dressing in wonderful colours and her confidence took flight. Within a few months, she had a well-deserved promotion at work. She is thriving and it has been lovely to see.

However, I’ve discovered that the clothing company has a NSFW (not safe for work) page, with photos of customers in various states of undress. My sister has taken to posting regularly — pretty much naked, in provocative poses.

This is not empowering or confidence-boosting; it’s grotesque and embarrassing. I’ve watched, with horror, as she and other people push the boundaries.

Over the months in which I’ve seen what my sister is posting, more and more men, who have sexual fetishes for BBW (‘big, beautiful women’) are able to leer over my sister. She’s happy; I’m watching with nothing but dread.

My main concern is her safety. As my sister posts under her own Facebook profile, I fear she could possibly be putting herself in a situation of danger. I’m concerned her pictures will be saved and posted on adult websites without her knowledge.

I’m also anxious that if her pictures appear elsewhere online, they may jeopardise her job.

Mainly, I’m disappointed. She’s cheapening herself for ‘likes’ on a social media page. Enough people are telling her she looks beautiful, but she doesn’t. She looks ridiculous. And, I’m sad to say, a bit desperate.

So should I approach her with my concerns? I’d appreciate it if you could help with how I should do so. My sister’s life is in a great place and I don’t want this desperate behaviour to ruin it all.

JENNY

First it is important to stress how wonderful it is that your beloved sister discovered her confidence at last, realising she could find bright, attractive clothes and feel great.

The ‘body positive’ movement has helped thousands of larger women to feel more at ease in their bodies.

But that good news is accompanied by a damaging tendency to dismiss any concerns about obesity as ‘fat-shaming’. Everybody knows obesity is a major problem, causing terrible health issues. ‘Fat pride’ is all very well, but as men, women and children pile on self-destructive pounds, it costs the NHS even more pounds.

I looked at the website you named in your letter and thought many of the pictures overtly sexy. What’s wrong with that, people might ask?

The company agrees, saying: ‘All things spice, naughty and nice . . . So many of our [customers] have felt like they weren’t allowed to be sexy, didn’t deserve to hold that title because of their size, gender or sexual identity . . . We’re here to shout it out that you can’t measure pleasure and nobody gets to gate-keep what sexy looks like. Sex isn’t taboo and neither are you.’

The part you mention — not advised to be viewed at work — is a private Facebook group, described as ‘a place to connect, chat, explore and see sexy [customers] in the wild at every stage of their self-love journey . . . And if you feel like it, you can get involved or just enjoy the voyeuristic experience.’

That last bit bothers me, as it does you. Fat fetishism may do no harm (although it depends what pervy ‘voyeurs’ want and do, and where the pictures go). But it is certainly unwise for anybody in a responsible job to post highly sexualised images on Facebook, even in a private group. Pictures are so easily copied and you can have no idea how they are distributed.

What’s more, many of the ‘likes’ encouraging more outrageous pictures are likely to come from nasty, sleazy men, posing as the fat sisterhood. If that was my sister, I too would feel worried.

After so many years, she must feel so excited at looking (she thinks) sexy (and being praised by strangers) that she never stops to think of consequences.

It disturbs me that so many women have no need to be objectified by men (as we’ve been for centuries) because they do the job so well themselves. The vile, multi-billion dollar pornography trade has corrupted too many people.

Nowadays girls as young as ten think it fine to create sexualised avatars of themselves and their friends, while intelligent, professional women develop that vacant porn star pout. Kim Kardashian’s epic rear has inspired a million provocatively posing rumps, many of which are amply displayed on that commercial website for any-old-body to see.

Even though you love your sister and have her interests at heart, you do run the risk (if you speak up) of a quarrel which could never be healed. She might say — if you are so ‘disappointed’ and ‘embarrassed’ and see her as ‘cheapened’ — how that speaks volumes about you, not her. If you hurt her feelings, she’s likely to lash out with verbal defiance and tell you to mind your own business. Then (I bet) cry in private.

So tread carefully. You could mention somebody you know saw her pictures and was so shocked and puzzled they asked you what she is doing. You would need to be cool. Or you could see this as just a phase and hope nobody she works for (or with) spots her.

Perhaps she is so thrilled by her new, confident selfhood that she is playing a game which she will tire of in the end.

Royal rift reminds me of my family 

Dear Bel,

I was so saddened, watching the spectacular and wonderful Coronation, to see royal protocol treating Prince Harry in the way it did. Heart-breaking.

I think convention should never have been allowed to exclude him, leaving him as a spectator at his father’s Coronation. I am, of course, aware of his actions which caused this situation. It all makes me sad.

A similar situation has happened in my family — every family occasion ruined because one pair of relatives say something deemed unforgivable to another couple. There it is, our lovely family split for ever, despite my attempts to put it right.

This is reflected in almost all my friends’ families. Why can’t we forgive and try to forget before it’s too late?

After the royal event, news and comment have been full of judgment.

Although I also judge, I despair of the human race and fear for my grandchildren — because technology is allowing anyone the chance to express opinions which are sometimes harsh and negative.

Why, oh, why can’t we express love and care rather than hatred and live in peace with those who disagree with our feelings?

I can only pray that we learn to treat everyone as we would wish to be treated, a quote from our maker that is so simple and yet so difficult to achieve.

Paula

Paula, it would be impossible for me to agree more wholeheartedly with your final sentiments, as well as your reservations about technology and fear for the future.

Regular readers of this column will remember how often I counsel forgiveness before we are claimed by the grave.

Faced as I am with so much unhappiness, deceit and anger, I despair of people’s seeming inability to realise that resentment and jealousy are a burden they impose upon themselves, an intolerable weight.

Your own family issues have obviously bruised you badly. But I read what you say about Prince Harry (or the Duke of Sussex; titles seem to matter to them) and cannot believe you blame ‘royal protocol’ for . . . what exactly?

Where he was sitting? What role would you have liked him to play?

I’ll make it absolutely clear that I adored the swashbuckling, funny younger Prince and thought his wedding day one of the happiest ever, with a beautiful wife who could (and surely would) do so much good. Like you, I am very sad indeed that everything went sour.

You say you are ‘aware of his actions which have caused this situation’ and I’m afraid that is now the beginning and the end of the story. After the Sussexes’ endless complaints, self-pity, that awful Oprah interview, films and a massive best-seller telling Harry’s side of the ‘story’ and vilifying his family, the King invited the Duke and Duchess to his Coronation.

At every point he has expressed love for his younger son. In return, Harry prevaricated, then generously decided he would come and she would stay in California for their son’s birthday. Free choice. So the unhappy Duke made a whistle-stop visit. Again — choice. What were the options?

I have no doubt the King is still entirely ready to forgive — just as he would wish to be forgiven. As would we all. But I’m sorry, Paula, it just isn’t that easy. I wish it were.

But in the words of the medieval mystic, Julian of Norwich: ‘Peace and love are always in us, but we are not always alive to peace and love.’

AND FINALLY… Breaking the big taboo about death

It wasn’t the kind of theatrical performance many people might choose, yet The End Of The Road Show was so beautiful, funny, uplifting, moving, dramatic, poetic and true, I wish everybody could see it.

If I tell you the key question of this amazing event was, ‘Have you thought about your own death?’ you’ll probably switch off. But please don’t.

The evening was organised by Dorothy House, the wonderful hospice situated just outside Bath, which cared so beautifully for a dear friend of ours. I highly recommend their resource, partoflife.org, which offers compassionate thoughts, links to research, wonderful poetry and much more — to help discussion about all things relating to death and dying.

Are you muttering you don’t want to know? That’s a mistake. This affects us all. The website’s vital aim is to ‘de-stigmatise death to make the most of life’.

And that’s what The End Of The Road Show did. Just one brilliant actress, Su Squire, held the stage magnificently as she took us, the large audience, on a rich, complex journey through living and dying.

It’s almost impossible to describe, but she asked questions and performed sketches as we considered loved ones, thought about what kind of death we might have ourselves, laughed and cried.

A leaflet explained: ‘So — yes, it’s a show about death but it’s also a show about life, love and the amazing things that can happen when we bust the taboo, sit down over a brew, and have a good natter!’ Find out more at this thought-provoking website, offthetwig.co.uk.

This column (unlike many others) has never shied away from answering letters about bereavement. Why would it?

I know what stress can happen when, for example, a loved one refused to talk about what sort of funeral they want, or when a family is unprepared for a death. Reflection is vital.

So light a candle, put on music and take a moment to breathe. And value every second.