A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

And no, I ain't perfect.  No one walkin' this earth's surface is. But . . . work with the kid.
- Jay-Z

I did some awesome things this week.

The Original MAJ, circa 1964
First, I tracked down this photo of my Mom from 1964. This was when she and my Dad were dating.  It used to be my favorite photo of her when I was a kid.  We all change a lot over the years, but it reminds me of when I was young enough to think that my parents were the most brilliant, beautiful/handsome people in the world.

I will tell you more about my plans for this photo later. I don't think Mom reads this blog regularly enough to see them if I post them, but let's keep it on the DL for now, shall we?

Next, I decorated my singlet for NYC.  Whoop whoop!


Then there was a birthday gathering this weekend with some of my girlfriends, one of whom is an amazing makeup artist and I have to tell you, watching everyone both with and without makeup was amazing.  I was overwhelmed by how lovely they all are, inside and out.  I couldn't stop complimenting everyone on their shoes, their jewelry, and just their personalities in general. 

We were chatting with the photographer about how some of us are very picky about pictures of ourselves and have a harder time finding a lot of photos we like.  There were some great ones taken and a lot that I did not care for; having photos taken is always tough for me.  I tried to explain that I feel like everyone should feel good about how they look in pictures, so there isn't really anything wrong with being picky about which shots you like. But, from the perspective of someone who's always been curvy and battled chronic illness, it is often hard to explain to people how being larger can make you feel in a society that prizes tininess above most things.   You see a picture of yourself and think that is not how I look in real life!


Photo shoot girls night!
Looking through the photos of my girlfriends, I realized the a lot of photos didn't really look like them in real life, either.  So many of them are pretty on film, but absolutely stunning in person.  The photos, while some of the best I've ever had taken, just couldn't capture their internal beauty.  It reminded me of the picture of my mom from 1964. It was her favorite picture of herself back then, and although she'll say I don't even look like that anymore, it is a reminder to me of the days when I was a kid and I idolized her.  It reminds me of what a lovely person she is - although I'm sure it does not do her justice - and that she has always been someone I looked up to. 

A picture is worth a thousand words, but the memory is priceless.That isn't to say that a picture that makes you feel like a rock star is not a bad confidence booster; it just means that a really good one takes you right back to that day/time/memory, which is way more valuable than just how we look.

At the end of the hard days I think about the hard stuff I made it through.  Like finishing the week's homework and feeling like I accomplished a lot at work.  Like running 32 miles this week (part of which was running 17 miles yesterday but feeling like I ran 10.) I think about how lucky I am to know so many intelligent, decent women.  I think about all the support I have received over the last few years as I have made tough decisions and got ill, then well again. 

And I remember that I won't always have all the answers. But that's ok.  Because, if I did, I wouldn't have any reason to ask the questions.  And sometimes asking the questions takes you on the adventure that changes everything.

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