One upon a time, in a land far far away, I did a professional photo-shoot.**
Thanks to *you* I was voted People’s Choice in the Fila Real Women model search.
Dont get me wrong. I was and *am* super grateful.
You had no way of knowing dancing wasnt my strong suit and I had no way of knowing there would be DANCING INVOLVED.
This lovely misfit dances like the awkward gazelle she is and it’s all reminiscent of Elaine Benis.
It was humorous (especially later when I wrote the posts), but Id be lying if I didnt share it made me feel kind of bad about myself.
They are myriad more articulate & flowery ways to make the statement above—but those 9 slang’y ones capture how I felt.
The experience & the *people* were amazing. Yet I went there thinking I ROCKED (self-esteem much? I know, but Ive worked 42.5 years to get here) and returned feeling a little less-than.
When they decided not to use any of my pictures, it stung. I wasnt surprised (please to see awkward gazelle & cross-reference under the Benis)— but it stung. It all conspired to cause me to feel old.
I became a misfit on a mission.
I still had misplaced confidence knew I was a strong writer.
I never lost my faith in the fact I *rock* on video.
But the pictures. The (fingerquote) modeling (unFQ). I couldnt even watch episodes of A.N.T.M. without having horrible flashbacks.
It bummed me out and my life philosophy is if something bothers me enough to think about it twice—it’s time to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
So I did.
Please to enjoy Three reasons a boudoir photo-shoot resurrected my self-esteem.
It was all about ME! There were no younger, sexier ‘others’ to compare myself to. I was the best!model!there! because I was the only one there. And you know what? It’s not a bad thing to set yourself up for success this way! I also adored my photographer. For the 2 hours we were together her sole mission was making me feel comfortable so I could be my best, most relaxed, non-dancing self. We women rarely do anything us-focused and it felt amazing. (you can invite friends over to help suggest outfits etc if you’d like, but Id definitely recommend being the only one photographed. It felt deliciously decadent.)I felt the fear and I did it anyway. Absolutely nothing in life feels better than being terrified a little nervous about something (anything!) and still following through. Let’s just say I felt for my poor photographer. I must have messaged her a million times saying how the shoot was outside of my comfort zone etc. etc. I knew she was the one for me when she always responded with patience and *humor.*And you?
Have you experienced a crisis-of confidence/self-esteem as I did?
How did you resurrect yours? And, if you havent yet, what’s your new plan?
Have you, as I did previously, mocked the boudoir shoots as self-indulgent & silly and later realized it’s because you own only granny panties & sports bras?
**I know I linked eighty kabillion old posts today. Mainly because this one makes no sense without some kind of backstory or frame of reference. My FREAKY HAIRED FRIEND taught me that.
No comments:
Post a Comment