The following post will probably be one of the most impromptu I’ve ever written, thus far. Just moments ago, I was mindlessly perusing Twitter as I so often do, throughout the day and stumbled across a tweet from one of my many favorite magazines, Good Housekeeping. I’ve read the magazine for years despite not being in their specifically targeted age demographic and have always found something I could relate to, no matter what. That being said, this morning’s tweet featured a link to an article written by bestselling author, Jennifer Wiener, published in the August 2015 issue of the magazine. After quickly reading the article, I felt overly inspired and more than compelled to both tweet about it, as well as craft a blog post surrounding it.
A link to the Good Housekeeping article: http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/a33462/insult-hurt-self-confidence/
If you’re not a follower of Good Housekeeping on social media, a reader of the magazine, or familiar with them at all, I wanted to share it with whomever may be reading, because I feel as though it is an article that can be used as inspiration, support, awareness and may come as a realization, that we are not alone in some of the sentiments we may experience on a daily basis. For me, this post resonated on more than a singular level. In the article, the author describes how she avoided photos like the plague, stating she felt she looked “disgusting, horrible and bloated,” believing as though she didn’t deserve to be seen in a photo, feeling guilt and shame surrounding her appearance. She also stated the amount of sadness and regret she feels when looking back on parts of her life, because the photos of these times are absent. Perhaps the most poignant section of this story, in relation to myself is this:
“What I’d say is that perfect is impossible. When the camera comes out, don’t hide. Tell yourself that every time a real, imperfect woman shows up in a photograph, an angel gets its wings … and a girl who sees it might believe that her looks are OK.
Be brave. Smile and say, “Here I am.”
It’s hard for me to explain how much the author’s words truly mean to me and resonate. I can’t even begin to recall all the times I’ve hidden and shied away from the camera, of how many moments I’ve missed out or how many moments I wish I could visually recall and can’t because I hid from the camera. In August 2014, I became an aunt to my beautiful, intelligent and inspiring niece, who I love with every ounce of myself, and the only photo I have of she, my sister and I, is one from when my dog, Oliver was having surgery and we were waiting for him in the waiting room. It hurts to know this and it isn’t because of any other reason than me, avoiding the camera. So maybe today, I’ll take a photo, a photo that should have been taken whenever I felt so inclined, and be proud to be here, be proud I have the ability to take a photo, and the courage to look at it, be okay with the image looking at back at me, and bravely say, as the article states, “Here I am.”