My friend, Velma, is the bravest person I know. She might not jump in front of moving trains or run into blazing buildings to save someone's pet turtle, but still, none the less, the girl has balls. She does, on a regular basis, something that scares the crap out of me like no clown or Republican could - she takes self portraits and actually shares them with folks.
Velma has not led the most charmed life, nor has she always made the perfect choices, but she's never apologetic for who she is. She's herself and she loves and honors herself and, in essence, has become flawless as a result. What would it be like to be her? To be okay with myself every day in everyway. If she sees something in herself that she doesn't like, she fixes it but doesn't berate herself for having less than perfect traits. She's honest and does a self check all the time *without qualifiers.* AMAZING. She is, I believe, the embodiment of an empowered woman.
And she's a hell of a lot of fun, to boot!
Last night, my husband and I stayed up waaaaaay too late watching home movies. What I realized is that I couldn't handle watching the parts with me in them. Oh I squirmed and looked away. I didn't like the way I sounded, the way I was acting, the size of my body. I could have erased myself from those videos and been totally fine. That is horrible! Why can't I just be Zen with who I am?
Jaime Lee Curtis has written some amazing children's books - I think that even adults should read them. Anyway, she has one out that's about self esteem and it has things in it like, "I'm gonna like me when I make mistakes." The whole thing is just about digging yourself regardless of your flaws. Just learning to like what you see when you look in the mirror and just loving yourself, warts and all. LOVE Jamie Lee. At 29 years old, can I learn a lesson I should have gotten when I was a kid?
I'm gonna try. I'm going to be unashamed of who I am. I'm going to explore myself and take pictures of myself and learn to be cool with them. I'm going to capture the less that perfect complexion, the large forehead and prominent chin. I'm going to accept that I'm not 18 anymore (thank Elvis I'm not 18 anymore,) and that sometimes I just look old and haggard because sometimes I look young and beautiful. I'm going to explore why I cannot handle images of myself.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to pick the real Mamakohl out of the lineup. But if not, at least I'll have some nice parting gifts.
1 comment:
Sarah. Thank you. So much of me I learned from you - especially the empowered part. You showed me that it's ok to take care of myself, to be a little selfish, to not take abuse from others. You saw my beauty and helped me celebrate it. You believed in me. Without you, I would be a very different Velma. It was you after all who showed my how to take those self-portraits! (whether you remember that or not!)
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