Picture Day
Today was picture day at work. I was given the task of updating employee headshots. Before the shutter clicked, the requests came in…“Take my wrinkles away.” “Take ten pounds off of me.” “Remove my double chin.” ”Ugh, I hate getting my picture taken.”
All to which I replied with the truth. I will do those things for you, but please know that you are beautiful as you are. Everyone smiled at the camera and thanked me. Trusting that I could make them look better.
And, then it was my turn. Anxious and apprehensive, I sat down to get mine taken. My lips do some funny kind of quivering thing when I get a camera in my face and I instantly push my head back, leaving me looking like I’m trying too hard. In the final image, I always think I look like a cop. Trying to be tough or something. Certainly not natural. With each click of the shutter, it got worse. My poor coworker, who isn’t even a photographer.
And now, I sit staring at all the images on my computer screen, needing to edit them, but not seeing too much wrong with any of my coworkers…and then I came to my image and instantly I was ready to delete it. I hold back on the temptation to pop open photoshop and remove the wrinkles. Instead, I pop over to Facebook to distract myself.
I was tagged in a post from my best friend from elementary school. She had sent me a 3rd grade pic from our old yearbook.
My blonde hair had bouncy curls. I remembered the blue & red dress I was wearing, it was my favorite. I sat hunched over, terrible posture from the start. But, my smile. My eyes. I look happy. I look secure. Confident.
With both images up on my computer screen, I compared the difference that 50 years had made. The older lady had grey hair, wrinkles, and extra weight…just sitting there in Photoshop, ready to be edited. It would be so easy to remove the grey hair, the wrinkles, and the extra 20 pounds that I was carrying. Which so rudely showed up on my face.
I probably sat there for a good 20. minutes … looking … comparing … and then, finally accepting. That last part may take me a bit longer, but it certainly won’t happen, the acceptance part, if I don’t see who I truly am.
