The Body Obscura, the war with each other, and ourselves.

May 7, 2018

The Body Obscura Photography show takes place May 12th, 2018 from 6 to 10 PM at GRACe Studios.

I personally invite you to this show; A photographic exploration of social climate and reaction. 

One of these topics in the show is body image, below is two accounts of personal and social reaction. 

The second topic lead directly into the war of words. The internet was supposed to be the place to share ideas, and experiences. Now it's a verbal war zone, where no matter what the subject it is reduced to a buzz word, or hash tag.

 

 

 

Self-love (Kat 22)

 

How much do we really know ourselves? Do you remember how you got the scar on your hand? Do you know what your eyes do in the sun? Did you know that there are people that can tell peoples professions from their hands?

 

Coroners can tell our diet, if we smoked, if we drank, if we worked out. It kinda seems like they might know us better than we know ourselves.

 

How scary is that?

 

That it’s like we live in a house with a roommate we don’t really know about. Have you ever just looked in the mirror and said 5 things you love about yourself? I know I haven’t. I might steal glances at the mirror but I know I really don’t like looking at myself.

 

I really hate my thoughts as well. They always feel negative. Now that’s funny, if someone came up to you and told you that your earrings looked dumb, you might scoff and think they were having a bad day. You might think, they don’t know me, whatever.

 

I know I’ve told myself my earrings suck. So why do I listen to myself? Maybe I don’t maybe that’s why I ignore so many red flags when dating people. Why would I listen to a negative person? I’m not a negative person.

 

If you ask my friends or family, they will tell you I can light up a room. They will say that I try to help people when I can, that I’m supportive and positive. So why do I feel differently? Why am I so negative to myself while I can tell everyone else that they are amazing, wonderful, loving, and that they make me happy.

 

Why don’t I tell myself that?

 

I can’t remember the last time I told myself anything like that. I’ve been judgmental, negative, hurtful, attention seeking. I look for my validation in others, because I can’t find it in myself.

 

So I suppose in the array of questions, the next question is, how do you love yourself? I have no idea.

 

I am 22 years old and I am still struggling, but I think asking these questions is a good first start. I think getting to know myself and talk to the person I’ve been living with for 22 years is a good start. I may not know how to love myself yet, but I am getting to know myself.

 

 

 

 

Angel 33

 

Beauty might be in the eye of the beholder, but sometimes my glasses need cleaned.

 

I grew up in a generation with a need to express and perform, but no one ever told us what to do if we weren’t well received. It’s no better that it all happened in the south, the land of beauty pageants, Vaseline smiles, and baton twirlers.

 

My self image came through creation. I built the person I wanted to be. Red lipstick, tight jeans, and leather were my armor from a world that would rather see me sitting silently in crinolines and slingbacks.

 

The problem is that creating your image around a shell leaves you vulnerable in other ways. I worry that people will see the big dork underneath the outside. As a woman, as a professional, and as a model, I’ve been conditioned to see my body as something for display and my self esteem has little to do with my shape.

 

My anxiety comes from the fear that the person inside will be rejected, that I’ll be labeled some kind of socially awkward fraud.

 

It’s why everything, even stuff I’m passionate about, feels like I’m playing make believe… like I’m still that 8 year old girl in chunky glasses being told to hush because no one wants to hear about the things I like. It’s years of being told that my interests are inappropriate, for boys, weird, nerdy, or boring to others.

 

I tried for years to shed that inner voice, but the older I get, the more I come to peace with that feeling. Like many other things that influenced me as a young person, it colors who I am now, and I hope that I can allow myself to be aware of it without allowing it control of my world.

 

 

 

 

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