Skip to main content

Pictures don't have to be worth a thousand words

Let's jam for a second.


Mr. Gaffigan* has a point up there. How many of us walk around feeling like we're all that and a bag of chips (mmmm chips…), and we either see a picture of ourselves or see ourselves in the mirror and we're like "Gah! Who IS that?!"? I know I've had those days. Lots, and lots, and lots of those days.

Shoot, I felt that way about some of my wedding pictures. Terrible, right? Greatest day of my life to date, I received tons of compliments and felt like a mermaid princess the day of, and I see certain pictures and my illusion was shattered.

It had absolutely nothing to do with my photographer, but with my own perception of myself.

It makes me wonder which matters more: how I actually look, or how I think I look. Does one matter more than the other? A friend of mine and I were talking about this article, as the author so eloquently states something so many women (and probably men!) can relate to:

"How is it possible that a double chin can overpower the beauty of a mother cuddling her child? How does arm fat distract from the perfect shot of a spontaneous hug? I swear y’all . . . how is it that we can put more value on a TUMMY ROLL than the captivating way you throw yourself into a roar of laughter during a shoot?"

I can't count the amount of pictures that I found adorable because of a friend I was with, and terrible because of my 6,000 chins ruining it. But did my friend see it that way? No, they saw a wonderful memory of 2 goofballs.

Did my family or friends look at any particular wedding picture and think "Geez. Heifer"? Well, hopefully not. My husband couldn't stop smiling, my parents lauded the happiness expressed between 2 weirdos who found each other in this big crazy world, and my friends were all overjoyed for us.

But sadly, we do it to ourselves, and I wonder if it's a type of self-defense mechanism. Maybe if we address what we think other people are thinking about us, it'll get the "awkward turtle" out of the way and we can move on. No? Just me? OK. I know I do it. It's why I used to make fat jokes about myself in college. If I say what I think you're thinking, it makes it OK.

Why can't we just look at a picture for what it is, be it 2 friends, a husband and wife, a friend with a baby, and love it for what it is? Don't sit there and pick apart what you think is wrong with yourself in it. Just love the moment it captured. Love that you have a tangible memory.

Oh, also, if someone catches a picture of you stuffing your gob with a cookie or brownie as it's prone to happen this time of the year, let it happen. Enjoy that darn cookie/brownie/cake pop. Be gentle with yourself. Anyone that's judging you isn't a true friend, and anyone that is a true friend is glad you had a good time.

So, my challenge for you dear friends, is to find a picture of a moment that you don't like of yourself. Look at it again, but look past whatever you think is "wrong" with it. Remember how you felt when it was taken. THAT is the point of a picture. Not to make you feel bad about yourself, but to make you feel good about your life. 

xo
A Redhead

*Note: Jim Gaffigan is a hilarious comedian and author that I love love love. I read his book, and it's as awesome as his stand-up is. Also, Jim (if I may), you should give me a thousand bucks for this unsolicited endorsement. It's just a thought. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shame Eating

I found the above image on the interwebs and it always makes me laugh. All.the.time. It's kinda true though, right? IF you've ever had any kind of food addiction then you know the sweet sweet embrace of "one more" handful of kettle corn (ahem), or "one more" piece of bread, or whatever . I was joking with my co-worker that I might as well be shame eating out of the Costco-sized bag of Kettle corn on my counter in the dark, licking the sweet and salty remnants off my fingers. That I can't be trusted alone with it. That I grab a bigger-than-small bowl and PILE it up, lamenting the few rogue pieces that make it to the floor. Another colleague overheard us and said she used to do that with angel food cake. She would sit it on the passenger side and just drive, picking at the fluffy confection. I know a girl who could knock out an entire family size container of Sara Lee pound cake. So friends, those are a few confessions. Using the powers of anonym

Of pizza and fudge [cake]

There comes a time in every girl's life when she has to make a choice. 1 slice or 2? "It's margherita pizza, redhead. How bad can it really be?" I stood in line at a local pizza place eyeing up their margherita pizza with it's circular discs of cheese, smattering of tomatoes, and dried basil leaves. "Yeah, how bad can  it be?" Sometimes in life you order 2 pieces. Sometimes those 2 pieces come out to you falling off of 2 paper plates. Sometimes you look and say "SWEET MERCY I'M ONLY EATING ONE OF THOSE!!". Today was not a day to only eat one of those. Well to be fair, it was, I just didn't bother to acknowledge that until I'd plowed my way through ½ of my second  slice. I can sit here and rationalize that I dabbed up a TON of oil, and it's thin crust, and blah blah blah, but bottom line… There was also chocolate fudge cake .  I know, right? I looked at the cake I'd said I'd split with my wonderful

Frustrations & Fertility

The Bearded Wonder and I got married on a sunny Saturday afternoon in September 2013. Barring a few minor hiccups, the day was pretty perfect. Per the (unfortunate) societal norms, people started asking questions like "So, next comes baby, right?" or "When are you guys going to start popping out kids?".  Between me, you, and the Internet, I was a virgin when I got married so I was in ZERO rush to start having kids. I wanted to enjoy being married for awhile, hopefully travel, and just settle in to living with this person I'd never lived with before.  It's funny to me now, looking back on those first few years. The Bearded Wonder had some job transitions which led to some tight finances. We got by (not without help), but I was in a constant state of fear that I'd get pregnant. We were just floating with the 2 of us, but adding a baby in the mix? Yikes. Definitely not the right time. I remember calling my best friend in a panic, "I'm crav