The Contentment Challenge--Day 5. The "selfie".

Last night I was in a local high school taking my daughter to swimming lessons at the pool there. I saw a poster on a wall for a "self-confidence" group for girls. They had posted a challenge called #ilovemyselfie. The challenge, which I will adopt as my challenge for today, is to tweet/post/Instagram a selfie with no edits or filters. A natural self-portrait.

This is actually a great challenge. And a really difficult one for me. Every selfie I've posted has been creatively styled so I can pass it off as art.  So I decided to take this challenge.

I took several selfies trying to find one that I was okay with posting. And I wondered what it meant to post a "natural" selfie. Should I take off the eyeliner and eyebrows? Should I wear a scarf like I usually do, or should I go bald? I want to look natural, but I also don't want to post an unnecessarily downplayed picture of a woman who has put no effort into how she looks. I'm not sure that's "natural".

So here's the pick:

No makeup, the cap I wear under my scarves (call me crazy, but I don't go bald when it's 7 degrees outside), no photo finishing apps that color my lips or thin out my cheeks.

I'm trying really hard not to write more about this picture and just say "I love my selfie".

If you're interested in more perspective about the "selfie" phenomenon, read here.

The Contentment Challenge--Day 4

Looking at photos of myself will never be easy. I have just accepted that. I remember the day my fiance and I got the proofs from our engagement "shoot". I had been so looking forward to seeing them, because I had felt so cute the day we went out. But when I saw the results, I remember being mortified that I had dared to think I would make a beautiful bride-to-be in pictures. I think I cried in my room and hid the proof binders for quite some time, hearing my fiance knock on the door because he wanted to show his family the pictures. I was so embarrassed. What I had imagined as a playful giggle at the time turned up in one photo as a wide guffaw that resembled something you would only see on a farm.

(Photo retrieved at http://www.fotothing.com/SomersetDreams/photo/a8b1e626dc3bb52571a34d3b77625be8/)

What I thought was a relaxed stance looked more like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in the photos (I can only hope my posture has improved after that wake-up call). On and on the blows came. The pictures, through no fault of the photographer's, had not turned out the way I had imagined.

My pictures never do. A few years ago I had a friend of a friend take pictures of me in one of my favorite neighborhood spots...completely bald. It was a huge milestone for me (read my original post about my "unveiling" here.) But I similarly felt discouraged at my inability to look in pictures the way I imagine myself to look in real life.

So, today I choose some photos from that shoot to put on public display--and I choose to be content with the realities they depict.

Flaw I get hung up on: My earrings stick out like pirate hoops.
Reasons I am content: I have nice, long legs and a nice smile. Hoop earrings are made to stick out like that.

Flaws I get hung up on: One eye is smaller and squintier than the other. Major belly revealage. And those earrings...
Reasons I am content: I love that scarf. I love the angle of the horizon. I could be a shipping company owner here because I look confident and powerful.

Flaws I get hung up on: Oh, the blinding white orb that assaults my eyes. What a prominent skull. And the wrinkles abound. And the gums show forth.
Reasons I am content: I obviously really had fun doing this shoot. That's a smile I couldn't fake. And I really like that red jacket.

Flaws I get hung up on: Eyebrows are too manly. Freckles. Incongruence of dainty, feminine flowers juxtaposed with a bald cranium.
Reasons I am content: I love the light in my eyes. I love that I am standing in a lilac bush. Ah, I can smell them now...And I know each of those freckles. This is a familiar, intimate look at my face.

Flaws I get hung up on: That squinty eye again, those darn wrinkles, those big gums. 

Reasons I am content: I am seldom seen laughing like this! I look healthy. I really love the color of my shirt. 

So, there you have it. A set of photos that may or may not have been included in my original set. The process of choosing pictures was interesting. I wanted to pick photos that I cringed at initially, but I didn't want to choose photos that I have put in my "never see the light of day" folder. I didn't want to choose photos that I liked, because it would be harder to write about the flaws. Isn't that ridiculous?! 

But really, this has been a good exercise. The longer I looked through these photos, the harder time I had choosing ones that I didn't feel good about. 

You should try it. Look through that photos that make you cringe and find the reasons why you didn't toss them out. 

The Contentment Challenge--Day 3

My daughter really doesn't like to hear me put myself down. If I say I'm not as good at something as someone else, she flat out gets in my face and says "No, you're better!" If I admit weakness in an area or lament my lack of talent, she looks at me like I'm crazy and says "Yes, you're really good at that!"

What a gift! 

Often we laugh at the brutal honesty of children as they point out blemishes in public and innocently air our dirty laundry. But kids can also see right through the bull**** of our self-deprecating remarks and tell us the truth that we find so hard to admit--that we are not only good enough, but we are excellent.

So, today I accept the "me" my daughter sees: a musician, a singer, an artist, a beautiful woman, a chef, a fashionista, a genius, a mother. I am content that she sees me that way for now. I am content with the fact that I am enough of those things for her to experience, even she is using a rose-colored magnifying glass. 

Thanks sweetie. :) 

Can you be content to see yourself as someone else sees you today? 

The Contentment Challenge-Day 2

Last night I had a special birthday party to go to, and I almost ditched it for my bed and lots of candy. My preparations for the party looked like this: put on a scarf, rip it off and throw it on the floor; put on a wig, rip it off and throw it on the floor; put on a hat, rip it off and throw it on the floor; etc, etc, etc. 

Nothing was working. I couldn't wear a big scarf around my neck and a big scarf on my head. I couldn't wear a wig because they all poked, scratched, and look unnatural. I couldn't go bald because we are still living in the Arctic. 

Nothing. Was. Working. 

I finally decided on this cap: 

Not my best look, but I was late and I stopped caring. I threw a winter hat over it and left in a huff. When I got to the party, a man took my coat...and hat. It was that awkward moment when I had to reach up under my winter hat, put my hand on my head cap to steady it, stretch the winter hat up and over so the cap wouldn't come off and expose my scalp, and then adjust the cap anyway. 

But...today I celebrate the fact that I went to the party and ended up having a good time. I am content with the fact that I can overcome any first impressions by the way I hold people's gaze and let my personality shine through. And now, looking at this picture that I sent my sister when I was doubting whether I could actually go out in a cap like that, I think it looks retro chic, like I was at a party at Jay Gatsby's house. 

Where can you find contentment today? What moment will you celebrate?

The Contentment Challenge--Day 1

I'm in one of those emotional places where nothing is right. My entire wardrobe needs to be trashed, I'm so sick of being bald that I want to scream, I can't figure out how to get my eye makeup to look normal, my nose keeps running, I don't have a house with a yard, and my husband and I don't go out for dates and take pictures of our cute selves together. I have too many wrinkles in my forehead, my cheeks are too puffy, I'm not a good kisser, and I can't sew. And my head is too small.

My number one enemy right now is comparison. I think everything would be just fine today if I weren't comparing my life to other people's. I look around, I look at magazines and Facebook photos, I watch movies...and I see "better" everywhere. And it really ticks me off.

So...I am challenging myself. For the next 7 days, I will practice contentment. Not the kind of resigned acceptance that doesn't allow people to feel true joy, but the kind of contentment that comes from a sincere appreciation of present conditions, no matter how they look in the light of another person's circumstances. We all know circumstances can change. We have all been surprised to find out that the perfect couple whose pictures used to gag us are now getting a divorce, or that the family whose kids win all the awards are struggling to hide a substance abuse issue. It's so easy to look at a photo and think it represents a perfect life, but the best we can usually claim is a near-perfect moment here and there.

So, this week I'm going to celebrate those moments with people. I'm going to find something each day to congratulate someone on. I'm going to find something each day to love about my life.

Today I celebrate the announcement of a baby on the way! My sister-in-law and brother-in-law are expecting, and they had a professional photo taken of the "belly embrace" that made me simultaneously feel joy for them and sadness for the lack of picture perfect moments in my own life. I guess that's just jealousy that I often don't think to document life with nice pictures. It's jealousy that I don't look like her. It's jealousy that I don't have a house to raise my own kids in.

But...today I celebrate the perfect moment with them. It's an amazing and special time in their life, and I am overjoyed that she and the baby are healthy...and that I will get to be an aunt!

As for me, I need to remember that I did have wonderful "mom-to-be" moments. Like this:

Living in an amazing city, right down the street from the beach, looking classy. I love that moment.

What moment can you celebrate today? What do you love about your life?

Another Look

After almost ten years of marriage, I feel like I might finally be understanding something about my husband. He is multi-dimensional! I know, go figure.

When I first met him, I thought he was an obnoxious show-off (and he will be the first to admit that he was, indeed). Then he took the time to reach out to me during a period of intense homesickness and anxiety, and I saw a soft, loving, generous side of him. And then that was all I saw. He was up on a very secure pedestal, as most first boyfriends are.

Once the realities of family life settled in, my rose-colored glasses were ripped off and exchanged for an entirely new shade, something sort of brownish. I could only see his faults. Again, I think this trajectory is fairly normal (correct me if I'm wrong).

Another way I think of this is by comparing it to one of Chicago's biggest tourist attractions: The Bean. Technically, Cloud Gate--but it's earned a less lofty nickname due to its shape. You can be standing in the middle of this amazing city but only see a warped, distorted, bent image of one part of it--and if you stand in that spot long enough, you can slip into a different reality. You become mesmerized by the distortion and find it hard to look away. There's even a spot underneath The Bean in the center where you can look up and see yourself multiplied, with no sign of the city around you.

I feel like I have been looking at my husband in the reflection of a misshapen mirror for a long time. I have become fixated on this distortion, mostly because of that pedestal I mentioned earlier. My husband used to be one-dimensional, and now I am trying to reconcile that one dimension with the one I am allowing myself to see now. The key word here is one. I am still seeing only one dimension, one angle.

I need to tear my eyes away from the enticing yet distorted image I allow myself to get fixated on and turn around to see the entire, all-inclusive view. The view of the city after turning away from The Bean can seem flat at first, until you notice that you have a more grounded sense of space, distance, color and movement. Not to extend this analogy way past the point of ridiculousness, but I do think my husband is more like a city than a reflection of a building. He moves, he pulses, he lights up and then hides in darkness, he is assaulted and loved, he is tender and hard, he serves and he works and he entertains. He is simultaneously the past, present and future.

We all are. This is because we were created in the image of a multi-faceted God who is, was, and will be. The only difference is that God in perfection doesn't change (although God is always creating and renewing), whereas we are constantly growing, adapting and refashioning ourselves. I think I might slowly be learning to give my husband space to be all of himself and change as he needs to.

This applies, by the way, to anyone we have spent any amount of time with. Siblings, parents, children, roommates, friends, coworkers--they all deserve for us to step away from the bent image that kept us standing in one place and take in the entire picture, messy and frustratingly fluctuating as it may be.

Oh yeah...this applies to myself, too.

Poet, Redefined

Some poems I jotted down today at lunch. Enjoy.


"my gift"

creators
would be nothing
without admiration.
I am that
admirer, never
creating, always
appreciating.

---------------------------------------------------------------
"untitled"

I don't have much--
--but I have my eyes.
And if that's enough,
If eyes that see beauty
   and call it as such
are even a touch of
   what the world needs,

then I give you
                      me.

-------------------------------------------------------------
"Wrong"

I chose the wrong restaurant today.
And when the time came I had no urge to pay
for such false advertising and terrible food.
It really soured my mood.

I chose the wrong parking spot last night.
And when the time came my car put up a fight
and got stuck, just like my lover and I.
Boy, did that make me cry.

I choose the wrong thing all the time.
And when it's all over I'm left with a rhyme
that's witty and honest and never too long.

Sometimes it's fine to be wrong.

Mommy, you need hair...

Is bald pretty? Can a mommy be bald?

My 7-year-old daughter was playing with her doll collection the other day--a few Disney Princesses, a Skipper and her horse, and a couple Polly Pockets. 

 The dolls were having a party. Naturally, I hinted that I would like to be invited. The response was: "It's just for people who are pretty."  Ouch. "I'm not pretty?", I asked her. "Well, I mean you're not pretty like they are, because they have pink and purple...(voice trailing off)". 

I actually did have pink and purple on. I was in my pajamas, granted, but I had the required colors. 

A few weeks later, my daughter decided to draw a picture of our family sliding down a rainbow. 

I was at the stove, and all of a sudden she asks me, "Do you want me to draw you with or without hair?" Wow. I had never been asked that before! I told her to draw me without hair, since that's really what I look like. She ended up drawing me with hair (I'm up in the top left corner--can you see the curls on either side that look like short arms?) because "otherwise you wouldn't look like a mommy". 

I know my daughter loves me just the way I am and thinks I'm beautiful. She tells me that all the time. I know she meant no offense. But it hurts to hear those things, nonetheless. 

Still, I'm grateful (I think) for opportunities to challenge the "types" and the values we have absorbed from our culture. I'm glad my daughter will have to struggle with this concept of defining feminine beauty. I just hope Barbie doesn't win.