I believe that in your twenties you reckon with your upbringing and the mistakes your parents or teachers may have made. Realization sets in that people are flawed and human. You are flawed and human. You need to forgive, accept and move on. Don’t get stuck in a groove of bitterness or fixated on things that you think could have been done differently. I think I did that.
I am now in my sixth decade. Observing other people my age who are “baby boomers” or nearly that, I surmise we are at the age of introspection about our lives. I recently read everyone was writing a memoir. Ouch. I thought I was unique. My daughter remarked that writing is an attempt to make sense of one’s life. What I find amusing is I have not been one to disclose personal details to others in my adult life. I have morphed from that Norwegian desire for privacy to compulsively blah-blah-blogging to anyone who will listen.
Many overweight and divorced persons do not go to class reunions. If they get to their 50th reunion they attend not caring if they win the prize for biggest waistline or least hair. They are over “self”-consciousness and just glad to be alive and to renew old acquaintances. I recently hit the 40th mark and that is where I am. I could not attend my 40th but sent a letter telling everyone I missed them and I was still a plus size with gray hair under the Lady Clairol. Maybe I have accepted myself.
Nora Ephron says she hates her neck now that she is in her sixties. She jests about how her friends wear turtle necks and Mandarin collars. I hate my picture. In the past three decades very few pictures of me exist. I have not wanted my photo taken since I passed 125 pounds. I took the pictures or was the one in the back row with only my head visible in group shots. I would sort through an envelope of newly developed pictures and throw out the ones of me. Logically, I should have been more concerned with the body than the picture. Did I think I could meet and greet people with extra pounds but if they saw my picture they would be shocked? Now I can accept the body, but I still have some trepidation about the picture thing.
Remember the promo pictures of Katie Couric released before she started doing the evening news? Viola! Technology has an answer for the problem. My husband can Photoshop it! At our daughter’s wedding I wore an amethyst dressy mother-of-the-bride type dress. It photographed shiny and reflective of light probably adding more volume. You may have seen the original picture. Here is the new improved picture. I like it better. I hope it does not look like a Halloween costume to someone from central Europe where violet is worn for October 31st parties. Even if I do look like their version of “scary” I realize I need to get over me and focus the lens on everyone else. It is part of growing up.
3 comments:
"I realize I need to get over me and focus the lens on everyone else. It is part of growing up". I'm not sure where to start commenting on this one! I've struggled with the same things- except for the short period of time I was in really, really good shape (and feeling great). I generally avoid the pictures as well, and watching my wedding video made me think what a weird looking person I am. I seek personal acceptance, but it's somehow elusive. But the amount of energy spent focusing on it is really wasted. Like you said, if unhappiness exists in a photo maybe the energy shouldn't be in removing the photo, but working on oneself. It's what's out in the world for all to see. :) I must say I'm a bit dismayed that you continue to struggle with this- I've always hoped that it works itself out with age- hopefully before my 50th reunion! but at the same time I understand it, and see how it's something built on a lifetime of experience and bad messages (mostly from oneself). How to go forward? Aside from all this, part of it is the focus we put on it. Were I to be working in a refuge camp in the Sudan I probably wouldn't give it a second thought. move the focus?
Who was that svelt hot mama in the purple dress. She is really hot. Please oh please tell me she is available. Every since I saw her picture I have been captivated and cannot stop thinking of her, I quit my job, church, scrabble club and therapist just so I could spend more time thinking about her.
I will not rest until she is mine.
Thank you honey.
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