Recently, Katherine, age two going on 16, has become very interested in taking pictures. We have an old digital camera that doesn't work (not that that stops her). She carts that camera around everywhere.
"Mommy. Mommy," she says. "Say cheese." Then she holds up the camera to her eye (usually upside down), waits for you to say "cheese," and pretends to snap a photo.
"Got it," she shouts, grinning. She passes the camera to you immediately and it's your turn to take a photo of her. She hams it up, her face splitting into a smile that all squinty-eyed and toothy. Even at two, she's realized how important photographs are, a little slice of a moment that's captured permanently. (Plus, she just likes to be in front of the camera).
Of course, I hate to be photographed. I don't see a "good side," or a great angle or a pretty face when I see pictures of myself. I only see what I want to change. I've always struggled with my self-image and my weight. I rarely (read: never) find a picture of myself that I feel comfortable sharing with others. In light of the digital age of photography, guess what happens when I don't like a picture? It gets deleted that very second.
This phenomenon is not mine exclusively. I hear other women complain about not liking themselves in pictures constantly. So, we do what women everywhere do--we avoid the camera. This past Mother's Day, I searched (and searched and searched) for a picture of my mom and I together. The most recent one I could find was almost three years old. Before that, five years ago. Before that? I have no idea. My wedding? 15 years ago.
It's sad and it seems . . . selfish in a way. Those pictures aren't just for me or about me. They are about the moment I shared with my child or my husband or a friend. I think about losing the people I love. I would be desperate to have pictures of them, to look at and remember. I wouldn't care what they looked like,as long as that picture was something I could hold in my hand and see the face of the person I loved.
Most of us get out of being in the picture by taking the pictures. I'm the memory keeper in this house. My phone is full of pictures of the kids. Full to crammed with birthdays, Christmas, life in general, but not a one is of me with them being apart of the memory. If I stranger saw them, they'd have no idea I even existed.
What would my children have if I were to pass away suddenly? A picture of where I am a blurred blob in the background? One photograph of the day he or she was born? Maybe the yearly Christmas picture (and you all have seen how those turn out)? I also have two children with autism who are very visual. Gideon would most likely forget about me the next week if I wasn't in front of him. A sad, scary thought but, I fear, highly accurate.
You what else? I have a daughter now and I never want her to have this sad lack of self-confidence I have. I want her to be confident in who she is and that she is beautiful because what is inside her shines through. I don't ever want her to look in a picture of herself and see only imperfections.
So, I'm challenging myself. For the next month, I will intentionally take a picture every day with at least one of my children. Furthermore, I will post this picture on Facebook so that I can be held accountable. I will not hide my face, try to disappear into the background, or "forget," on purpose. I will not stress out about my hair, lack of make up, evidence of stains, or my fat.
I will just be me.
I will just be my kids' mom.
I'm doing this for my children, so they will have pictures to look back on one day. But I'm doing this for myself too. I've heard over the last few months that my writing can be "transparent" and "raw" (which may just be another way to say I'm oversharing) but the writing is not hard for me. Yes, it's a piece of me but it's one a feel confident in. It's one I can re-read and revise until I get it just the way I want it. Pictures of me? That's transparency to me and it's terrifying. But I'm up for this challenge because this challenge is important.
So, please pardon the excessive amount of photographs coming soon. Excuse the bags under my eyes. Ignore the messy hair. But I hope you'll see past all that anyway and enjoy the memories I'm making instead.
I'm even going to boldly say that I challenge you to do the same thing.
Day One (June 13, 2016)
 |
| Memory: Katherine, age two, loves playing doctor. Today, she was Minnie Doctor (check out the outfit she had to wear) and listened to make sure my heart wasn't broken. Thankfully, all is well with my heart. |
________________________________________________________________________________
Guess what? A Stone's Throw from Perfection now has its very own Facebook page. It needs friends. Can you help? Click here to join: A Stone's Throw From Perfection Facebook page
I like this post. When My Mom died in Oct. 2014 I had a really hard time finding a picture of her and I that was intentionally taken. Not so much because I hate having my picture made (although I rarely love them) but because I am always the photographer. When my Dad died 3 weeks ago I had tons of pictures with him because I always made a point to take them. My Dad was a paraplegic and I always knew his time on earth was short, funny thing he out lived my Mom. All that to say I agree with what you have said, make a point to say "hey I want in the picture!". One last thing, my husband always says "honey don't worry what you look like, in 5 years you'll look back and think you look great!"
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing! Miss you guys!
Delete