So, it was time for me to renew my passport. Like everyone else, I hate those dreaded mandatory pictures you have to take. Well, because I didn’t rehearse my facial expressions, I had one bland look for the 6 photo op.
When I got the pictures back, I HATED them. They looked like mug shots AND I looked much older than my 42 years. I was looking at the pictures scornfully and lamenting that I will have those horrid looking things for the next 10 y e a r s. – First world problem – I did say it was superficial Friday.
I hate taking pictures. I am not photogenic and almost every picture – except for my baby pics and 1 or 2 others, I look … well… ugly (in my eyes). This is the reason I shy away from taking selfies or anything that is close up. I am way too critical of my ‘beauty’ or lack thereof.
Sure, I could blame the camera or that I don’t know how to model for a picture but it’s not the camera. It’s the model (let’s not lie on the camera).
If people could take a snap shot of my personality, I would be a glowing angel (cheesy, I know 🙂 )
As confident as I can be, I, unfortunately, fall into the devil’s playground of comparison – we women compare ourselves as if it was second nature. She’s so thin! She’s so pretty! She is so blessed with perfect skin! Long legs, great boobs, nice derriere, great tan, perfect mother….. (the list is exhausting). Goodness Gracious! We women have some major issues 🙂 .
Interestingly, I have never second guessed my smarts, compassion, or all the other intangible things that are SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT. Woohoo, God didn’t skip me for the long lasting stuff.
Nevertheless, the darn beauty thing is still a thorn in my backside
My looks is my Achilles heel and I have known that since I became interested in boys; however, I have no plans to go under the knife, needle or cake on layers of makeup for a temporary transformation. I have accepted that being physically beautiful is not my thing. However, I am perfectly happy with the God-given and cultivated personality I wear very proudly. (PS – the above photo is certainly not me).
What are your Achilles heel or insecurities?