I have never felt comfortable with photos fo myself.
Then May arrives again, and I worry about events that mean swimsuits, pictures, and sweat.
I could say I fade from photos like Mrs. McFly, but the truth is Im never in them.
I could also start this essay by posing an age-old question.
Remnants of my lifeand their lives before my brother and mepooled on countertops and spilled from open closet doors.
Rooms were awash with frayed school folders, stacks of diaries and karate belts of varying colors.
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A five-foot paper mache Tutankhaman I made in third grade sat buried beneath abandoned Christmas decor.
In another one, shes younger and standing on a seawall.
She wears slacks, and her thick hair is curled and pinned.
She sports cat-eye sunglasses, dark lipstick, and a confident smile.
Behind her, the cresting wave sends foam into the air, like confetti falling just for her.
I asked everyone to share photos of me: candid, posed, good, blurry or bad.
Photos that I knew existed but hadnt actually seen.
There are a lot of ways that an essay like this could begin.
I asked everyone to share photos of me: candid, posed, good, blurry or bad.
…
Photos that I knew existed but hadnt actually seen.
When I occasionally consent to having my picture taken, I dont look at the result.
Its Amazing How Its All Connected.
I use my work to push back against fatphobia and bias.
Before I embraced my body, I fretted over pictures because of my weight.
My gender, my hair, my expression, my posture, and the lighting are go-to excuses.
Fat activist and author ofWeightless,Maggie McGillspeaks about accepting your fatness and being confident in photos.
Theyve said to get comfortable with your body in pictures, you should experience yourself from many angles.
Notice where your stomach folds.
Explore where your chin softens.
Examine the contours of your face (brows, cheeks, bone).
This is a skill and a muscle.
One Im learning to strengthen.
Exploring a Google Drive wasnt like unearthing the bin in the basement.
There were smears of smiles and splotchy chunks of life.
In early-college photos, Im small and feminine.
I barely recognize myself.
There are elementary school photosneighborhood tomboy in cargo shortsa me I remember well.
(Plot twist: It saved me.)
There were photos where Im larger, butch, tattooed and stronger from weightlifting.
In them, Im older, a more calcified version of who I amthe person Im meant to be.
Its loving for someone to say, Stop, right there.
I want to remember the you that exists at this moment.
I didnt have to remain small to be loved.
Ford and Hollowell gave me permission to stop shrinking.
They helped me realize that I didnt need to be a thin, feminine girl to matter.
I was evolving years ago, even if I didnt have pictures to prove it.
The truth is I have a life worth rememberingnow.
I deserve to look directly at the lensdespite the reasons I might not feel ready.
Its loving for someone to say, Stop, right there.
I want to remember the you that exists at this moment.
Her photographs are a gift.
Theyll think, She was beautiful.So was her life.
Youve likely heard the phrase, Every body is a beach body, right?
Still, navigating the summer can be challenging.
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