On Selfies

This is what happens when you start taking pictures of yourself: at first, you feel ridiculous (hence the addition of Jack in my pictures).  Then you look at your face and think, "Is that really me?"  You take pictures that don't show your entire face, or show just your hair.  You start to feel that you must be doing something interesting in every picture.

And then you just start to think that regular life can be interesting if you capture a moment and think about it.  Enjoying the freckles sprinkled across your nose.  A cupful of pink lemonade for twenty-five cents, because that's all it costs to make a kid feel proud.  Making something.  A half-numbed mouth becomes a PSA on the importance of flossing everyday.  And a walk with your pup while your husband sleeps off a migraine is a moment worth capturing, even if the sun is making you squint like crazy.

So here's what I found: I'm usually self-conscious about pictures of myself.  I see the flaws: blemishes on my skin, awkward posture, hair out of place or control, a curvy figure that I'm still not sure how to dress well, and obviously amateur photography skills.

Yet after photo eleven, the second-to-last one I've taken thus far, I find myself actually enjoying this process.  I start looking at and around the flaws from a different angle, both literally and figuratively, because I'm putting these pictures out there on instagram and tumblr.  I start seeing that I smile with my eyes as much as my lips, and that even when they're not quite perfect, I love the photos of myself genuinely grinning.

So who knew that a thirty day self-portrait challenge from A Beautiful Mess could make me think a little differently?