Once again perusing the internet for inspiring stories, I came across this wonderful article of a woman, a very ordinary person in most ways. Her truly remarkable aspect is her courage to show who she really is, all done in a series of
self portraits. As an overweight female who eventually underwent surgery, you can see the transformation in not only her body, but in her personality as the weight began to melt away.
As a society, the image we have to uphold because the the automatic judgement of strangers astounds me. I find myself judging people I don't know all the time, wondering what that person's life must be like, just based off of what he or she looks like. When people walk into my work, I automatically place a superficial judgement upon them. What causes them to look happy, sad, stressed, be overweight, overly tanned, all that makeup, so skinny, does she know her pants are that sheer? The thoughts race around before I can stop them most of the time, and they're not always kind. What kind of person does that make me? What kind of courage does this woman have to photograph her pain for others to see? Where is the bravery of others, and, more importantly, where is my own?
Although the voice is far more important than the face, not everyone can deal with the repercussions of letting themselves being seen sans the fancy wrapping. I have been about the inner beauty of myself and others since I was a child. My mom used to talk to me about how she views herself. She would tell me how beautiful her legs used to be; now she has spider veins and a larger varicose vein running down the front. I told her that I found them beautiful and she didn't understand. My answer was simple. The body is a road map of our experiences. Those laugh lines, the spider veins, freckles and wrinkles are all marks of the things we have been through. Those memories are far more important than the beauty everyone seems to seek. If you're healthy and happy, why not be happy with how you look? Society be damned, love yourself for all of your supposed faults and flaws. They make up the unique matter that is you.
I have a scar by my right eye that I got when I was a child. Obsessed with the television show Thundercats, I took a leap off of a bucket with a welding rod clutched in my three year old fist. Screaming "Thundercats, ho!!" at the top of my lungs, I jumped and ended up with the rod embedded in the skin beneath my eye. You can't see it much now, but I know it's there. I have another larger scar on my upper chest from a nail on my swing set, countless marks on my hands.
My face is rounder than it used to be, my stomach not as flat. My nose is slightly crooked, and one of my eyes opens more than the other. My teeth are huge. I now have a few laugh lines around my eyes, and am developing spider veins. I try to love every piece, because they're mine. Some days, I succeed more than others.
As a conclusion, I leave you with a photo of myself with no makeup. I like the fancy wrapping as much as the next person, but I'm happy to be reminded that without it, I am still beautiful to myself, even on the days I don't feel it. Women like Jen Davis, the woman with her self portraits give me courage.
Today, I am inspired.
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