The Only Photo

The Only Photo by debgrant

In 70 years, it is the only photo of me I have ever liked. After that, the self-critique that was oppressively cruel and poisoned with the world’s idea of beauty and strength always won. Claiming camera-shyness eased the pain of picture-taking times. But oh, how I like this one photo. How that girl in the photo becomes a mirror for me in this season of wrinkles and sags.

I was 5 years old maybe. I was doing what I loved to do as often as I could for as long as I could. Splashing in the water. Before this photo, I was wearing shorts. That day my mother decided that the tiny dots on my chests should be covered. That there was something shameful about my appearance that somehow changed from the day before. I didn’t have a clue what she meant. She fashioned a swim top from a hairband. She took the picture. She bragged about her fashion handiwork and thought I looked proud to wear it. She was my mother. She was entitled to her interpretation. But it was wrong. The top was tight and uncomfortable. A foretaste of the fabric confinement to come. That day, I didn’t care. I was in the sun. I was splashing in the cool, clear water. No one was going to spoil the day for me. No one. Nothing. There was a strut to my walk that pushed aside the discomfort and the shame and I claimed joy as mine to find.

I’m glad I kept the photo. I like that girl. She has more room to strut around these days and splash joy in my face.

Do you have a photo of yourself in which you like the person you see?

Peace,

debgrant