I get it - as a woman, one of my biggest Achilles heels is vanity. Need further proof? See my post from an hour ago. What I didn't mention in that post is that, sometimes, my embarrassment over a very mild skin condition keeps me from wearing the clothes I want. Ridiculous, right?
Right.
If I had to guess the biggest reason that a woman would deliberately not appear in a photo, it would be, in her words, because "I'm not ____________."
Fill in the blank. Thin enough. Made-up enough. Primped enough. Tan enough. Perfect enough.
You know what? Screw the excuses.
One of the biggest things that tears at my heart regarding my mom is that there are so few photos of us together, especially as I got older.
Usually, it was because one of the two of us was behind the camera. But the other half of the time, it was probably because one of us wasn't wearing makeup, or didn't do our hair that day.
In hindsight? So. effing. stupid.
It makes me want to scream.
The photo below is probably the most-posted photo on this blog, if I had to guess. It's the last photo that I believe we have together - 6 months before she died.
Six. flipping. months.
She was happy and quite healthy for at least three of those months. She helped move me back into college, I had my 21st birthday. I guarantee we could have found another photo-worthy occasion.
I swear, my intention with today's post isn't to make anybody sad. (Tell that to the box of tissues I'm rapidly emptying.)
But it is directed at all the mommies, and daughters of mommies, and really anybody. Seriously.
Take the damn photo. You are the only one who gives any shits about your stupid double chin or un-tweezed eyebrows or bad hair.
Take the damn photo.
Please.
(And yes, I am a cliche and need to heed my own dang advice with Mr. RH. I bet we have less than 20 photos together. We have a whole lifetime to take more photos, I hope, but we'll only be this young and free once, right?)
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