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Friday, March 03, 2006

Self Portrait Tuesday

Jamie intrigued me by posting about Self Portrait Tuesday. I decided to attempt it. Not by actually following the SPT blog's assignments, but by making my own up.

Then it immediately occurred to me that taking my own picture is basically my worst nightmare. It gets worse the older I am. There's something about a camera in my face that makes me panick. Something akin to that pathetic Friends episode where Monica and Chandler try to get their engagement photos taken, and Chandler makes a hideous, pained face in every one. I feel my face freeze in a grimace as the camera flashes each time.

I don't want to take pictures of myself warts and all. I want to take pictures that show me as devastatingly beautiful, graceful, and stylish. Because in my head, that's what I am. But then I see photos, and I look pudgy, blotchy, gangly, awkward. I don't want those photos to be a physical reflection of me, because it's not who I feel I am.

So it kind of breaks my heart every time I see an ugly picture, because the more I see, the more I start to think, "but what if I'm just delusional? What if I really am this unattractive?" I know everyone really is her own worst critic, but I do have Tim agreeing with me that I'm not a very photogenic person.

The hardest part for me is that I've always struggled very hard to find myself beautiful and be at peace with my body. It's been so important to me to have self-confidence, and I feel like, nearing 30, I should have had it figured out by now.

It's strange--I expected that being in love would do it for me. Not having to worry about being "perfect" all the time, because I finally have someone who tells me no less than a million times a day, in all seriousness, that I am the most beautiful person he has ever seen. But it's almost too much. I don't believe it. I still thrill for the moments when he mentions a co-worker or classmate has said something to him. It usually takes the form of "how'd you get such a beautiful wife?" And I blush and say, "No really, they didn't say that! Ok, wait. Tell me again!" And he'll smile, and boast again how he's always been picky, and only dates really outstandingly gorgeous women.

And I hate myself a bit, for not believing it until I see it reflected in someone else's eyes. I want to be better than that.

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Blogger cilee said...

You? Are me.

11:20 PM  

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