Alligator skin

Let's talk leather skin. This guy, we are going to call him Al, was saved from becoming a belt, purse, pair of boots, or even upholstery because he lives in an aquarium. His skin is highly desirably to the wealthy.

Doesn't it cost us an arm and a leg to keep our skin from becoming like his? We scrub and cleanse to prevent blemishes and then spread the goop to moisturize then we add another layer to prevent wrinkles. Al's rough skin makes him a valuable commodity while our rough skin is a curse.

However, maybe the lessen is we should stop fighting our natural state. God created us knowing exactly what our bodies required to survive. Al has rough skin to survive in the rough elements. Humans have softer skin, easier to break and easier to mark up. Maybe so we'd have a bit more sympathy and take better care of each other. Humans also have less teeth and hands. Maybe so we stop biting each other and can shake hands.

Check Out This Fellow

This guy makes his home at the aquarium in Atlanta. He looks a bit like he's made out of clay with those lips. His colors aren't vibrant like many of his buddies swimming around in the tank with him.

Yet, I found myself photographing him. Not because he was unsightly, but because he was unique. There were plenty of other fish I could have captured, but this guy needed his moment in the spotlight. He contributed to the tank as a member while probably not being the most popular.

I think at times we all feel like we look this guy - out of place in a tank full of vibrant colors. I know I do. I hate wearing lipstick because I spend my time paranoid it is all over my teeth. I dislike shoes and dress shoes are the worst. When I'm dressed up I'm counting down the minutes to losing the shoes.

The thing is there is someone waiting to take your picture. There is someone who appreciates you for how you look. There is someone who relates to you. You aren't alone in the tank.

Boycotting Selfies

I took up photography so my place would be behind the camera and not in front. I could say it is because I am not photogenic. I could say it is because I am shy. I could say it is because I have a talent for photography. All would be true to different degrees. Most would be acceptable answers. However, the real reason is that I hate photos of myself. Hating photos of myself doesn’t make me unique. As a matter of fact it gives me something in common with a lot more people than most of my other hobbies ever would.

When I look in the mirror, I wish I could say I am mostly pleased with the person looking back at me. I can’t. I’m tall, but I’m too tall and not thin enough. I have blue eyes but they aren’t symmetrical. My blonde hair is best in the summer when it has been lightened by the sun. Fair skin causes me to sunburn easily so I miss opportunities to spend time in the sun. I regret cutting it because my best feature is my hair. I like the shape of my nails but they are attached to man hands. My breasts are too large. My feet are too large. My posture is horrible. I still feel like a child playing in my mother’s make up. I’d rather wear yoga pants and a tank top than feel like I don’t measure up in today’s fashions.

I don’t find my self-worth in how I look. It doesn't mean I don't target in on every blemish and inadequacy I see when I'm putting on my make up. I lament having two different shaped eyes. I search out each little hair on my face that has grown in dark. I fight with cleansers, moisturizers, and miracles in bottles to maintain my skin. The physical inadequacies I have identified in myself don't drive my life. My parents raised me to put value in the character of a person above their beauty. I believe all people are beautiful yet I can't allow myself the same courtesy. While I fail to notice other's physical unique markers, mine all have their own neon signs broadcasting their locations. It is a curse most of us bear be our own worst critics.

There are thousands of pictures on my phone. They document the amazing people and experiences I have been privileged to have. The closest I like to get to selfies in photos of my feet (preferably my toes as I hate shoes) in a new place. My memories are of the things I've seen, documented by photos without me in them.

Through this blog I want to take a journey. A journey into overcoming the insecurity I have. A path of learning to accept myself as I've accepted others.