The other day I posted a photo onto Facebook of Megan and myself. The comment I added to it was:
Sunday morning cuddles…complete with pimples, crows feet, un-brushed hair and an egg on Megan’s head where I dropped the phone on her!!
I usually hate ALL photos of myself, and only ever see my flaws in them. I had originally wanted to post this photo with the idea that we were still in ‘morning-messy’ mode but proud of it. I added the typical self-deprecating comments which is a habit formed long ago.
But the more I looked at the photo (when reading the comments on Facebook), the more I changed my opinion of it. I started to see the beauty that others seemed to see straight away.
I saw the clarity and similarity in Megan’s and my eyes.
I saw the way that my daughter can look right through you.
I saw the luxurious textures in my dressing gown and Megan’s blanket.
I saw that I don’t need to evoke a smile to get a beautiful photo of Megan.
I saw the haphazard way Megan’s hair had fanned out and fallen, a bit like a shampoo advertisement.
I saw my crows feet and thought “hey, I’m lucky if that’s all I’ve got!”
I saw the way the morning light fell over our faces, relishing the fact that I had caught one of those rare (or hard for me to catch) moments of great lighting.
I saw the shadows and contrasts that only black and white photography can.
I saw our dog on the very edge of the photo, snuggling in for his own cuddles, hoping no-one would shoo him off the bed.
I rarely do any photo printing these days, unless they are good enough to be framed and put on the wall. And this one will be. It will remind me of that lovely Sunday morning when Megan and I shared a cuddle, but also that I need to look past the self-negativity entrenched in me and see the beauty there.