I noticed something unsettling in my home about a year ago: there was only one picture of me displayed. Just one. It was a black-and-white shot from my wedding day, capturing a moment of joy as I danced with my husband—14 years ago. Ironically, it didn’t even show my face; it was simply a view of my back. That was the sole image I felt comfortable sharing with anyone who entered my home.
Like many women, I’ve never been fond of having my picture taken. I’ve often felt overshadowed by my sisters, who seem to effortlessly shine in front of the lens. Over the years, I developed a knack for avoiding the camera, always finding excuses to hide behind it instead. I became remarkably skilled at distracting myself with tasks that didn’t actually need my attention. Why? Because I didn’t like my smile, my hair, my nose, my thighs… the list goes on.
I avoided being photographed because the thought of seeing myself made me uncomfortable. It led me to believe I wasn’t worthy of being captured in the moment. If I couldn’t bear to see myself, why would anyone else want to? As a result, I missed out on countless memories with my children during holidays, their first days of school, and milestones. I was the designated photographer at their first birthdays, ensuring I remained behind the camera while my kids took center stage. My own presence in their baby books was alarmingly absent.
That all changed when I stumbled upon a remarkable woman on social media about two years ago. I didn’t know her personally, but she posted a candid selfie for her 40th birthday—no makeup, no smile—just her authentic self, with long braids cascading down her chest. She shared her insecurities and the anxiety she felt about sharing that image. I found myself returning to that post again and again. When I looked at her, I saw none of the flaws she spoke of; I only saw a beautiful, whole person.
After nearly 12 years of motherhood, I realized how distorted my self-image had become. I had relegated myself to the background of my own life, absent from precious family moments. It was a sad realization, and I decided it was time for a change.
It’s crucial to embrace ourselves fully, flaws and all. If you can’t love yourself as you are, how can you expect others to? We all have things we wish we could change, but true beauty lies in owning our complete selves. I may not fit the traditional mold of beauty, but I’ve come to understand that life is unfolding right now, and my children deserve to see me as I am—along for the ride.
We often fixate on our perceived imperfections, thinking that if only we had a different body type, smoother skin, or longer hair, we would be worthy of attention. However, when I look at your photos, I see you—a complete, beautiful individual. You are not defined by your size, your smile, or your hair; you are a vibrant woman, and I’m too busy appreciating your unique spark to even notice any flaws.
So go ahead—snap that picture! Share a selfie. Whether you’re dressed up, just waking up, feeding your baby, or feeling a bit frumpy, capture those moments. Get in the frame with your children, even if it means asking someone nearby to take the shot. These spontaneous moments bring joy and remind us that life is happening right now, even if we’re not wearing mascara or our favorite outfit.
Let’s challenge ourselves to see beyond the fragmented pieces of our appearance. I want to see you, just as you are, and by allowing others to see you, you might inspire another woman to embrace herself too. For more insights on embracing motherhood and self-love, check out this insightful post here. And if you’re considering at-home insemination options, visit Make A Mom for reputable kits, or refer to ACOG for comprehensive resources on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary
It’s time to stop being your own worst critic when it comes to photos. Embrace the beauty of capturing moments, flaws and all, and inspire others to do the same.