Wherever You Go, You Take Yourself With You
Why Do I Post Photos of Myself? Why?
Because it is a moment. It is a fleeting moment…. truly fleeting moments.
Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. You have troubles? You cannot move, change your job, your hair, your car, your clothes or anything else…. you are still you. And all that crap that put dents in your personality, the formation of you….it comes with you too. It is the ghost in the room; it is the shadow that follows you, and despite how often you try to leave it, it follows…. because wherever you go, you take yourself with you. Your experiences are buried in your DNA; they do not go away. We simply learn to cope, and hopefully, move on …. Only moving on if we have faced the ghost and acknowledged it.
And this is about why I post photos. Pretty conceited bitch huh. Yeah, think again. Pretty spoiled brat huh. Yeah, think again. Walk my journey, let’s see if you survive with your brain intact, no less able to raise children who are decent people.
Back to the photos.
As a child, I was chubby chubby chubby. We were dirt poor. Zero photos.
As a teenager, I was in foster care. At age 16, I broke out in horrific acne all over my face including cysts along my jaw line. It came on suddenly. People asked my foster mother if I had been in a car accident because it was so disfiguring. I had to go to a dermatologist that Medicaid covered. The doc shot me in the face, directly into the cysts, with an air gun like they use in the military with medicine. The cysts would explode with blood all over my shirt. It was painful. He gave me tetracycline; fortunately, all of my adult teeth were in or they would have grown in stained from the tetracycline; he gave me cream to put on at night that was so strong it bleached my hair that rubbed against my face while I slept.
When I started college, I became depressed. So, I ate and ate. I got fat. The acne was gone, and I was fat. I was 19 and a virgin. No no no. Do not take my picture.
I battled weight problems until I was 40. I did not like my appearance whatsoever. However, I did always like my mind.
And one day, I had my hair highlighted. It looked pretty. I went on a diet and lost 60 lbs. People started to compliment me. I felt like a new girl. I felt pretty. I felt like the dancing ballerina in the jewelry box. I felt like someone I never was.
I’m 59. I have little time. I’m Irish. We crinkle and wrinkle like old newspaper. So, yes. I will and do take photos of myself.
It is my little window of when I was attractive. The ugly girl that both boys and girls made fun of. Now, I don’t need approval. I feel okay with all of me. And when I’m all wrinkly and my lipstick runs off my lips onto my skin because I’m old and make mistakes, I will look at the pictures and say, wasn’t that a wonderful time…. I’m so glad I had those moments; I’m blessed.
But then again, I’ve always had my brain. I’d be ugly every day of my life for my brain. And THAT! I ALWAYS TAKE WITH ME.