Camera-shy?

Do you avoid the camera because you're not as thin or young or stylish as you once were?

I used to.

Boy, was I ever so much younger, thinner, and more stylish twenty-five years ago than I am now!

Aside... Although I must say, I have awesome (for me) hair now. No, really. When I was young (thin and stylish), I always talked about growing my hair out, but I always ended up perming it (the 80s) or cropping it close (the 90s). Now, though, it's a middle-length bob, thicker than genetically-predisposed fine/thin hair has any right to be, and remarkably bright. I don't color it, so you can find the occasional silver "pony" hair, but it's nice hair. I like it a lot.

And I rather like my "cheaters," too. I always get a nice frame, and I like the way I look in glasses -- although I am glad I didn't need them when I was younger.

Anyway... In 1996, I became a fulltime at-home parent. And unlike the first go-'round in the late 80s and early 90s, I now had two young people to take care of and no California-beautiful culture to inspire me to hit the health club every day.

And then I became pregnant again.

And so it goes.

This a familiar story to many women.

We grow older.
We -- some of us -- grow (a bit) thicker.
We -- some of us -- fall (a bit) off the fashion wagon.

For a while, I avoided photos. I had never loved sitting still for the camera, anyway, so this didn't represent a big change (although my capacious behind certainly did -- heh, heh, heh). But one day, my husband bemoaned the fact that we only had a handful of photos of the two of us and none of just me.

And I resolved that this was how my family knew me.
And saw me.
And loved me.

Only one of them had ever known me when my waist was (yes, honestly, and truly) just under twenty-one inches. And he, for all appearances and actions and accounts was (is!) still reliably loving and wildly in love with me.

So bring on the cameras! Bring them on! Take a photo of my grinning face. Get one of me painting with my daughters! Cleaning the yards with my son! Hugging the man I have loved for more than twenty-five years!

Heck, publish a full-body shot of me on the trails of [insert name of natural setting here] -- twice! -- in the [insert name of newspaper here]. And I will clip it to send to friends. I will link it to an email message for family.

Yeah, my waist and bottom are larger, and I haven't donned a pair of heels and hose since... oh, a very long time.

But this is me now. If I were to wait for "me then," life would halt. And that would be a very poor plan, indeed. So I say:

Thank you for thinking I am worth capturing an image of.
Thank you for remembering me.
Thank you for being in my life.

*CLICK* *FLASH*

Look at me.

I'm happy.