Selfies are an interesting phenomenon.  Back in the old days, when people had cameras, someone had to TAKE your picture and you had very little control.  Then with timers, you could get everyone set, turn on the timer and join.  One of my favorite things when we visit my in-laws is when we take the family picture.  My sister-in-law Dee sets up the camera on the tripod at the end of the room, we all gather at the other end, she sets the timer and runs.  We’ve gotten some really interesting pictures that way and lots of laughter too.  These are fun and a great way to save memories.  But for me, selfies are another thing altogether.

My perception of selfies is that they are taken by people who are really sure of themselves.  I’m not talking about the Kardashian type celebrities of the world, as I’m pretty sure that could be another blog entirely;  I’m talking about friends and acquaintances.  Those great shots when they’ve gotten a new haircut, have gotten dressed up for something special, or maybe traveled to a new place.  It’s proof that they’ve been somewhere or done something.  It’s sharing things that are exciting to them with their friends.  And I really don’t have a problem with them.  I have a big problem with me in a selfie.

Unlike my husband who just seems to have fun when taking selfies, I am very self critical.  There are very few photos of myself, even from a very young age that I like.  Some of my closest friends know, but I don’t usually share a lot of details from my childhood because they weren’t always fun.  I grew up with a mom who for whatever reason felt the need to be very “honest” with me about how I looked.  She was a pretty woman who always looked younger than she was and quite frankly, I think I looked more about my dad.  So she had to work extra hard to make me look good for school pictures and went over and over with me how I should make sure to check my hair and everything beforehand.  I can remember her telling me several times how bad my pictures were, not because of the photographer, but because I hadn’t done something more to look better.  Then of course, my teeth were too big, my nose was too “bulby”, my forehead too wide, my hair too stringy.  I would never look good in a bathing suit because my torso was too long.  As an adult, she would try to give me some of her clothes saying she had lost weight, but she thought they would fit me since I was bigger. So, needless to say, I always looked at myself through her eyes.

So, taking pictures has always been a form of torture for me unless I can hide in a bigger group.  As a teacher, I have to get one every year.  I used to try to “forget” to get mine done at one school, but my principal would come looking for me. But enough of the past, let’s get into the selfie therapy part.

It started when someone took a selfie of a small group of us and I actually smiled.  And maybe it wasn’t so bad.  And then Doug would take a few selfies of the two of us and let me choose.  And he would tell me how great I looked and I would tell him he needed glasses.  Then the pictures would show up on Facebook and someone would say “great pic” or “great looking couple”.  And I would start analyzing it.  Maybe something wasn’t as bad as I thought.  But the hardest one to do for me is the individual selfie, especially as I’m getting older.   But I’m also seeing things I like and things I’m beginning to own.  Like, I look a lot like my paternal grandmother, who I remember as being one of the kindest people I’ve ever known.  I can deal with that.  I’m beginning to see some confidence in my face in terms of who I’ve become.   I’ve earned the wrinkles and in terms of my body, it’s not where I would like to be but it is who I am right now.  And it makes me appreciate my hair stylist who masterfully makes my grey go away : )

So here’s to learning to love myself, warts and all, and when you see a selfie of me, know that the therapy is working.