A sense of self(ie)

Selfies. Love them or hate them, there’s alot of them about. Few people have never taken one, most people have featured in one and many people are quick to criticise this modern photographic phenomenon, including myself at times. Yet these days, maybe because o f my art history background, over-analytical brain and too much time spent on public transport, I’ve started to appreciate them as an accessible form of self-portraiture. We can’t all be talented painters, capturing our own soul on canvas, but we can all press a button and capture ourselves at our most fabulous, loving, funny and adventurous.

For a long time the thought of taking a photograph of myself, and posting it for the world to see, seemed grossly narcissitic and terrifying. I’m self-conscious enough just putting some lippy on or brushing my hair in public, an insecurity that took root in high school. I admired my popular, pretty peers, acutely aware that I didn’t command the same reverance. I lived vicariously through the pages Vogue and Elle, which I bought with my pocket money. I was fascinated by supermodels with their elogated limbs and freakishly flawless features. Then came a pivotal moment. Just because I went on a school trip to The Clothes Show Live in London, my so-called “friends” accused me of wanting to be a model. This wasn’t true at all, but from that point onwards, to have any self-esteem, to show any sort of pride in my appearance seemed to get me nothing but ignored or ridiculed.

It was only when I became single in my thirties and crafted my first online dating profile, that I decided to fully embrace the art of the selfie. In doing so, I forced myself to confront my worst critic, the person who had bullied me the most over the years, the person who, at that point in time, hated me the most. Myself. Sounds dramatic, but it was true. Sat alone in my bedroom, despite falling apart inside, I faked a smile and embarked on a journey of self-acceptance. Three years on, I’ve gone from feeling worthless, invisible and ugly to embracing my quirkiness, owning my imperfections and saying “This is me everyone, like it or lump it”.

People accuse me of oversharing, and perhaps I do, but as much as I wear my mind (and face) on my social-media-sleeve, there’s alot that I hold back. My most heartfelt emotions and thoughts about my life’s ups and downs will only ever be articulated in private to those I trust and care about. It’s not something I do lightly because I’ve always felt it leaves me vulnerable.

What my accusers don’t realise is that my closest friends are scattered around the country. When I have a bad day, when I’ve had my heart broken, when I want to celebrate good news, logistics are against me. I can’t just pop round to my best friends’ houses for a hug and a brew, so social media is a way of staying in touch, seeking support and sharing some silliness.

Personally, I think If you’re feeling confident, silly, fabulous, sexy (within reason) and most importantly happy, why shouldn’t you share it? What harm does it do? Positivity is infectious and those that truly care about you won’t judge, they’ll be proud and pleased for you. Those that sneer and criticise can unfollow or unfriend any time they want.

Live and let ‘upload’, if you don’t like it…log off.

#selfies #photography #dating #love #selfesteem #confidence #pride #bodyimage