For some reason my grandmother was ashamed of her diabetes it seems. It was acceptability to have many different quirky genetic reasons for her encroaching blindness. It was not alright to admit that it was a symptom of diabetes.
Years ago I made a list of my family medical history. It was a relief actually to cross of the list of strange genetically caused ailments my grandmother had and put down diabetes. It’s not that diabetes is an easy disease to contend with – far from it. But it is at least a known disease.
Having accepted that I have certain diseases that are part of my genetic heritage, I can make choices wisely. To ignore or deny this family medical heritage is not wise.
Somewhere along the way we, as humans, became ashamed of our physical bodies. It isn’t just a shame felt when certain body parts are exposed, but a shame that any part of us is less than perfect. And it isn’t just about physical looks. We act ashamed of needing rest, having diet restrictions or needing help opening a jar of pickles.
When we believe that people were once perfect, then any perceived weakness is a reminder of our fallen state. If we accept that we are evolving beings collectively, we can simply accept that we are simply physical beings with finite capabilities. We can learn to take care of our bodies as part of being all that we can be, and we can do so without shame.