I've actually wanted to post about something recently.
Many of you may have seen Kate Parker's photography, specifically her photos "Strong is the New Pretty." When I first saw it a week or two ago I had the most visceral reaction to it - I found myself getting super teary and emotional (which, if you know me, is a big deal). The more I thought about why the more clear it became. The photos were of these strong, uninhibited, beautiful girls who were completely free and filled with life, and I realized I had lost that feeling and desperately missed it.
I've always been one who seemed confident, happy, and uninhibited. And for the most part, I am. But over the last few years I (and I'm sure a lot of people once they graduate from college and officially become 'adults') became weighed down with responsibilities and the pressure to conform to a societal idea of adulthood. Part of that included the kind of photos I posted on social media, especially considering I was in a highly scrutinized line of work.
But when I saw these photos, I realized something. If I have children, I don't want them to look back at my photos and see the scrubbed selfies and perfectly posed photos with celebrities, candidates, and friends, where I smile pristinely and politely as I hold in the loud laughter that causes my eyes to disappear and my chin to draw into my neck. I don't want them to think "wow, she was pretty, look at how you can't see laugh lines or a double chin." I want them to look at me and think "wow...she looks happy. She lived life to the fullest and she enjoyed every second of it."
I, like most people my age, am guilty of taking photo after photo and photo until I finally find one where I feel like that bad hair day or my huge arms or the love handles or the blemish on my cheek are all properly hidden and the light, angle, and filter are doing the rest to hide whatever other thing I hate about myself that day. But you know what I think when I look at those photos? I think "wow...I look pretty...it took me forever to get that shot." And then whatever joy I was feeling about the photo is depleted and tainted by how much work it took, as well as reminding me how I just don't look that way in real life.
So I made a decision. I probably started it a week ago. I decided that instead of focusing on photos where I looked good, I would make it a point to take and post photos whenever I was feeling particularly happy or joyous. Photos that my future daughters could look back on and think "man...my mom is awesome. Look at how strong, uninhibited, and beautiful she is. She is completely free and filled with life."
I've made it a point to only post real, authentic photos for the last week. And let me tell you, it's made a huge, huge difference in how I see and listen to myself.
This was the first photo I took with this new mindset. To me it marks a minor shift in my life. It's not big enough to call it a turning point...it's more like one of those places where the road adds another lane and then that lane slowly veers off by a small degree to begin with but ultimately takes you to a different place. This is my slowly veering. From now on I'm not going to see myself in terms of how I look to myself from the flipped side of my camera phone. The things I want to remember are feelings. The feeling I have when I wake up in the morning and see a 6 inch layer of fluffy snow on the ground, or when I laugh so hard playing Cards Against Humanity with my friends that I can't breathe, or when I start photo-bombing politicians at events, or even when my friend and I are dancing and doing the moonwalk through the ice cream aisle at the grocery store. These are the moments when I feel giddy and the most like myself. And these are the moments I want to preserve not only for others to view later, but for me to view in the not too distant future when I maybe need to be reminded about what's important in life and who I am. Because the me in these photos is real, and it is me, unedited and uninhibited. And I am strong, and that strength gives me life and a beauty no filter ever could.
