The Stories We Tell // GUEST BLOG POST
Super pumped to share this guest blog today. When we get emails from our clients offering to write a blog post, we don’t say no. (*hinthint*)
Take 5 minutes and listen to these words. She’s going deep and I hope you follow.
Hey girl, grab that picture of yourself. Lean in … listen … shhhh … really listen. What do you hear
The pictures we see have stories to tell. Our bodies shown hold the tales that we are sometimes afraid to tell - the ones we haven't realized have shaped us into the women we are. The question is, what do we need to do for these stories to be unlocked. How do we make sure we are listening and understanding the wonder and beauty that lies in the details?
If you look around at the women in this world, you will begin to recognize there is no standard of beauty. Each body you see holds different stories, and many of these are screaming to get out. Many women carry around pleasure and pain physically everyday. How they choose to tell the stories that created these feelings and important life moments can vary greatly. Often many are hidden behind veiled smiles and happy moments portrayed. Many are closed behind the security of clothing, or put out on display in the same way.
For me, my body carried stories of pain for many years. I failed to find a way to release it. Every pound I gained or regained, was attached to depression, anxiety, or self-loathing. Sometimes these pounds were to subconsciously protect me from my own self destructive behaviors and the traumatic experiences from others. If no one found me attractive, perhaps I wouldn't find myself doing yet another morning walk of shame. Perhaps no one would again find me desirable enough to drug me at the bar and be bold enough to sleep in my bed after. These stories are ones I held onto for a long time, continuing to view myself as unattractive. These stories were locked up, hidden from almost every person. Yet they impacted my self-worth daily.
As I aged, my body started to create new tales - Tales of motherhood, tales of physical well-being, tales of meeting my soulmate, tales of self-respect. And further tales of pregnancy loss, tales of difficulties balancing life responsibilities, and tales of self-acceptance.
For so long I struggled to know what to do with these stories. I struggled to tell these stories and so I held them and carried them around in my body, in my weight, in my wrinkles, in my ever more and more sprouting gray hairs.
When I scheduled my boudoir session I never knew it would help free me from these stories. I never knew my images would have stories to tell. I never knew I would feel brave enough to let go of the pain and hold onto the pleasure. My stretch marks don't just tell a story about a woman who binge ate for many years, but a woman who grew two little girls and a rainbow baby. My wrinkles and grays represent the work it took to be a single mother for seven years, to obtain two Master's degrees, and to have a continued, successful career in the mental health field.
If you lean in very closely to my images, you will hear many tales - tales of bravery, tales of resilience, tales of strength, tales of beauty, tales of adventure, tales of wisdom, tales of healing.
Thank you Lindsay for helping me tell these stories.
I mean….. THIS. I am beyond grateful for this job I have. So many women have come through our doors. They are just like me, and just like you. Everyday women, just trying to do their best, and feel like….enough.