Feeling Good When Feeling Bad

I've mentioned a dear friend of mine that suddenly and tragically passed away of a heart attack at the young age of 43. Much like my aunt Shari and Uncle Mike, it's just too damned young. When my friend, Fermín, was still alive, a few mutual friends and myself went over his apartment one night to feast on empanadas and drink terremotos. The conversation of selfie obsession came up, as well as my apparent lack of enthusiasm. I quickly corrected them. I have a huge library of Photo Booth shots on my iMac where I snap a mixture of flattering poses and funny faces. I just don't share.

It's then that Fermín mentioned I rarely change my profile picture. I shrugged it off. Not much changes about me. My hair is pretty consistently red or growing back into its natural non-color, long or short it's rarely brushed. I wear pajamas because most clothes are uncomfortable and dressing up makes me self-conscious. I have a ridiculous amount of makeup for someone who usually goes without. But he said something to me then that made me look at myself differently. It's not about making sure people know what I look like. It's not about vanity. It's about self-care. It's about embracing change, a small milestone. 

I have the same exact face I had two decades ago. My nose is a little larger, my skin a little clearer, my forehead has a couple wrinkles. Most people don't even notice. Yet there are some things I notice when I look through them. I clearly favor a yellow hoodie. I often smirk rather than smile. Sometimes I look like my mother. I often remember where I was in life with each one.

Yesterday, I didn't feel so well. I was lying on my bed in wrinkled pajamas, my hair unbrushed, no makeup. I'm congested and my jaw is still sore, so a camera was the last thing I needed in my life. Yet in the dim warm light of my room, I switched my tablet to camera mode and snapped a few pictures.

No matter that these days I feel old and weak in my vulnerability. Yet in that picture, time vanished. I saw the same face of two decades past, not older, not weaker. I saw confidence and stoicism and acceptance. The shadows under my eyes weren't there and I didn't look sick or swollen. Just me. Just like thay, my doubts were soothed away.

No matter how I feel, I pick a day every few months when I remember to change my profile picture. I ignore what I'm feeling and take a few selfies, pick one that defines me best. To remind myself, in such a small way, that it's okay to feel good even when I'm feeling bad. It's why I took a picture of myself crying after my mom died. I wanted to see that, no matter how broken I felt, I was still quite whole.

The pieces fall where they will. I have some power to change my life but sometimes things just happen to you. When things just happen, I push back. I do some small symbolic thing to remember to hold myself down. 

To shift it into creativity, sometimes my stories escape me. I don't get what I'm doing, I'm not sure I believe in how it's turning out. Then I take control. I snapshot it and give it a good look. I love what I do, what I am. I love being wrong when I think I'll screw something up. I love being wrong even when it doesn't turn out right. 

And when I forget, I make it a point in self-care to remind myself. When the pain of the past digs in, I anchor myself in the present. And sometimes, the deep dark rifts in the present become superficial cracks in the big picture. 

But I have to take those pictures. Even when they're grainy, poorly lit and unplanned. Because if I'm going to be insecure, I want to know that face is exactly like all the others. Then I'll wrinkle my nose, stick out my tongue and take a few more.