Visual re-enforcement

So yeah, remember that full length mirror I was telling you about? I’ve actually discovered an even worse visual reminder that exposes our even worse angles: A friend’s photo of you, posted and tagged on Facebook.

They mean no harm. In fact to them, they only see the memory and the laughs they were having at the time. To them, you look exactly like you do and so the photo is just an organic snap shot of the moment. They were there in the room with you that day and had the full 360 degree view of how you looked, not just your full frontal, smile for the camera, hiding behind someone else, pose.

Using a social networking site like Facebook or Myspace,  or even when you post an online personal somewhere like Match.com, you only post your best side. Your best angle that shows off your best features. Your friends however, aren’t trying to showcase you. They are posting the memory to document and look back fondly on an experience. Because of this, every so often, you are forced to see a photo of yourself that you’d prefer were removed from every mind, memory and data base on the planet. But why, I wonder?

The only person we are hiding that memory from or pretending it didn’t happen is ourselves. The people who were there with us remember the whole thing. They saw our behavior and our appearance first hand. I think we need the reminder of a bad photo to have a better sense of who we are and how we’re doing. I’m surprised at how many people remove their tag from the photos as if that makes it disappear. It doesn’t. The photo is still there on Facebook for all the world to see, it’s just a little bit harder to find.

I decided awhile ago to keep all of my tags. I think it is better that I know and keep track of what is out there instead of pretending it doesn’t exist. Seems like a new theme I’ve adopted lately. Not only am I talking about the pink elephant in the room, but judging by this latest photo found on a friend’s Facebook page, I myself AM the pink elephant in the room.

If I had seen this photo a month ago, I probably would’ve burst into tears, asked my friend who posted it to remove it and eaten food until my stomach hurt and my throat burned. Today, I look at this photo and think, “today I will continue on my diet. I will not consider straying and when it comes time for me to go to the gym, I will go quietly with no internal struggle.”

I can’t hide that photo. It’s me. And from the looks of it, I was having fun in a multi-million dollar mansion on a sunny California day in April laughing with two of my best friends. I’m making a choice to be thankful for this photo instead of humiliated, in spite of the fact that my belly looks like I will be the next Octo-mom.