See this picture? This adorable, Instagram image of a young family?
Not actually a family portrait because that is not Liliane. That is dear Luana, one of her very best friends who was happy to take a picture with us while our own feral five year old, um, declined. Loudly.
Drama aside, I liked it enough to use as my Facebook cover image. Kind people started commenting on what a lovely family we have, we are so blessed, etc, etc. Which of course we are. But I couldn't just leave it up there without explaining.
I've been reading lately about how we all so easily manipulate the portrait of our lives on social media. Of course we only share the good photos. Of course we don't talk about the yelling and screaming that happened just before the shutter click.
I'm not saying that we need to get all negative about everything, but in the spirit of honesty, fellowship and solidarity with my fellow mothers, fathers and anyone else who has a messy life (Hmmm, EVERYONE?) voilà. That's the story behind that photo.
And speaking of which, I want to post again the link to two of the best blog posts I have ever read on this (sort of) subject:
1. The Mom Stays in the Picture
Alison Tate wrote about being a Mom and constantly shying away from the camera. I SO GET IT. But your kids don't see you that way so wipe the barf off your eyebrow and tuck those greys behind your ear and SMILE.
2. So You're Feeling Too Fat to be Photographed?
Yes, women. We all suffer from it. Self-sabotage. This is a great post on how to get over it. We only have one shot at this life! And it will keep on keepin' on, even if we put ourselves on the sidelines.
This is what I would shout from the rooftops today, International Women's Day:
Take back the power that you already have inside!
Quell the horrible voice in your head whispering that you aren't good enough! BEGONE!
Vive la femme! Long live crappy photos of our REAL lives!
And stop being so hard on yourself so you can hear the still, small voice telling you what your purpose is on this here planet.
(That last part might just be for me.)