Please, No Cameras

In an age where selfies and less-than-modest photos are plastered in social media, I have become very reflective on the perception I have of myself.  No, it's not so much that I am caught up in what others think of me but rather how to be more confident in who I am.  Although, that hasn't always been the case.

Over the years my life has been filled with many ups and downs.  My emotional and physical challenges have left me anything but confident.  Despite my petite frame, I have struggled with my body image more than you could imagine.  When you measure less than five feet in height, one pound looks like 5 or 10 in weight gain.

As a teen, I was different than just about everyone around me.  With medical problems lacing the years, my weight fluctuated drastically during a very difficult time.  I would watch everything I put in my mouth for weeks to try to be back to "normal" and then eat uncontrollably when emotions ran high.  I would use my aches an pains as an excuse to avoid eating all together at times.   I compared myself to the other girls-almost addictively.  No matter what I tried, it was never good enough.

My junior year I decided to push myself harder than I ever had before.  Signing up for a weight training class with the majority of the students being male, I had something to prove.  I remember vividly walking in and telling everyone I was going to be able to do 20 pull ups by the end of the semester.

The guys would mock me as I had no idea what I was signing up for.  I didn't think about what was realistic, I just wanted to prove everyone wrong.   I would arrive each day and focus on the end result, the new me.  By the end of the semester I had accomplished squatting more than 190lbs and being able to do approximately 22 pull ups.  I was thin, fit and strong.  Dating a jock at the time, my newfound confidence carried into my relationship.  I began feeling more attractive and letting go of my worries-for a moment.

Unfortunately, the shallow joy I had experienced was short-lived as all it took was one glance at the "pretty girls" to take me back into my rut. 

I would never look like them. 

My skin wasn't flawless, my body wasn't developed, and I could think of a million things about me that made me less than them.  I began drowning myself in the chase of perfection and acceptance.  I longed to be complimented and allowed the first interest in me to lower my standards for my life.

College was ten times worse.  Even though I was no longer surrounded by the cheerleaders, they were replaced with the half-dressed blondes winning the frat boys' hearts.  Social media flared up every feeling of pain within me.  As these beautiful women displayed themselves in all their glory, I was trapped.  I remember trying so hard to impress those around me.  Again, compromising the girl I knew I really was to become someone like them.

If I could have stopped the clock my freshman year and reflected back on what had happened, maybe I could have talked myself out of how foolish I was being.  Maybe the course of my life following would be very different.  However, this downhill spiral didn't stop a few weeks into my college years, not even a few months.  In fact, this search for acceptance drove me to pulling myself further than anyone around me could have lifted me up.

Just over two and a half years ago I found myself standing at the altar next to the love of my life. Battling a medical mystery, I had been through numerous tests and dropped four inches from the custom size 0 dress I had ordered months prior. 

After years of wiring my brain on what I thought was beauty, I would find myself reviewing wedding/honeymoon pictures months later and think, "I wish I still looked like that ".  Even recently, I am guilty of comparing the me-now to the me-then.  Not to mention, having in-laws with insanely great genes, I felt like the black sheep of the family.

I could go on and on about the things I wish I could change: the complexion of my skin, the texture of my hair (after being on hormones-yuck), the size of my chest/waist/hips/thighs, my crooked smile and the constant "big nose".

With so many new changes going on lately, I decided that my facebook should be no different.  And, after searching for the perfect picture to display on my "profile picture" I came to the realization that for the past five years, I have hidden myself from the camera.  True, I had a very few close friends in college that I would feel comfortable with snapping a picture every now and again.  However, almost five years to the date from today I stopped being confident in front of the camera and started hiding myself. 

Going through all of the thousands of pictures I have taken at family events and activities, I cannot manage to more than a handful of pictures that included me.  Not to mention the ones I have found were generally improv shots that my hubby may have gotten in a not so attractive state such as eating with my mouth full or cheesing it up. 

Therefore, I am making an effort to be a better me.  Inside and out, I want to be proud of the girl I am.  I will work harder to be healthy rather than thin, to not compare myself as much to others, and to allow myself to be vulnerable in front of the camera.  Paparazzi beware.