Folds, Stretch Marks & Cellulite

Mar 4

I’ve seen photos like this of other women & loved them.

I’ve taken photos like this of myself & spiraled into depression.

Yesterday, the sunset seemed brilliant, but I wouldn’t know, because instead of chasing it, like I normally would, I set up my camera, tripod, ring light, parted the curtains in my bedroom to let in just enough light, & took this photo.

I loved it.

Many of you will see failure. Fine.
Those who know me will see the alphabet soup of depression, anxiety, ADHD, PMDD, SPD, overwhelm, exhaustion, & lack of self-worth that used to drown me. Sure. It’s impossible not to see that.

What else do I see, though?

I see courage to start over, again & again.
To reinvent myself & then do it again & again, refining, whittling, sanding.
I see someone who falls down, or gets knocked down, 6 times & stands up 7 times.
I see strength to persist.
I see a survivor.
I see a warrior.
I see someone who is doing the work, & has healed many layers of her alphabet soup, & continues to do so.

Do I look at this image & want it to change? Of course I do. This body doesn’t reflect the healing I’ve done on the inside, yet. It will.
Do I look at this image & hate myself? Absolutely not! I love her every fold, every stretch mark made by babies or food, every dimple of cellulite.
Do I look at this image & want to hide my body? Not a fucking chance!

When these images uploaded into Lightroom, I smiled. I am me regardless of how much fat I have on my body. I am strong, brave, powerful, sweet, caring, intelligent, empathic, compassionate, curious, creative, fun, & absolutely beautiful. Folds, stretch marks, & cellulite included!

I also took these and I love them. Maybe I should book a boudoir session. One now and one when I reach my goals… which are to feel good again. Whatever that looks like.