All it takes is a professional photographer, a nice camera, and time, for you to reevaluate your whole appearance and ask yourself, “Holy crap, do I really look like this?”
Parents will always lie to you. The one time you want brutal honesty is before you go out into the world to take a picture looking like a complete moron. But they will lie because they are your parents and that is the fine print webbed underneath the watermark seal of your birth certificate.
Then your friends will always lie to you too. Even when you look good they will lie to you and say you look horrible so you can then change and look actually horrible which is good enough for them to say, “Yes, you look nice.”
Today I am in shock of a picture I took. The only reason why I needed to take a “professional” picture was because I got an award at work and for a whole freakin’ year this picture will hang proudly as millions of strangers and my co-workers, walk by and stare at it.
Stare at picture. For a whole…year…a year is a long time.
Now, I know I don’t have the best self-esteem, but I’d like to think on a good day I’m not that bad-looking. In all honesty I’m not even attractive. It’s my personality. This is what I’ve been told when hot guys like me and the fit girly girls are in awe, “she’s a tomboy, she’s a pervert…wahh wahh wahh..” This is according to my co-worker who likes me. I am cool. Another co-worker who likes me, you’re a cool hippie (what the hell does that mean?). In a nutshell It’s obvious it’s not my looks that get me by, yet like I said, some days are better than others.
Today I tried. I honestly thought I looked good. Then I went to Picture Perfect. Can I sue for emotional damage? For altering an image? For ruining my day? Or in a sad truth…is that how I really look? I hope not. I want to blame the over zealous woman who probably has more cats than me, who took my picture. I can even go as far as blaming the high quality camera that zooms in on everything so…perfectly.
I sat awkwardly from the start as little adorable kids said cheese. Then there I was, an awkward giant waiting in line to say cheese. Flashbacks of middle school pictures swarmed my mind. No…not middle school. I’m better than this Jane, I’ve overcome this!
I’m finally next.
I get a woman who treats me like a child.
“Smile, or I’m gonna tickle you.”
The image that followed that sentence can perfectly sum up the emotional fear and confusion I felt as she said that.
“I just need one picture, it’s for work.”
“Yeah, I know but this coupon is for 18 so we can take that many and just have fun with it.”
The next thing you know I’m on the floor.
My hands are to the side.
My hands are on my face. I’m looking up, to the side, over the shoulder.
This is what you get when you use a coupon for anything in life.
She is getting too involved till someone passes by and pulls her aside.
“Oh man so I’m only suppose to take one. No one tells me these things. Ok, smile.”
All enthusiasm gone from her.
The end result.
Self-esteem lowered than before.
One eye smaller than the other, the lazy eye acting up; bags under my eyes, dark circles, blotches, hair a little messy, a face that suddenly looks rounder than usual, and an overall orange tone covers my porcelain skin and my nose looking bigger than I wanted it to be.
…and this my friends will be hanging up for a year. This will be staring at people as they walk by.
And you know what they’ll say?
“I bet she has a great personality.”
I like to think I don’t look this…
…but like this. You can lie to me.