That girl

A couple of weeks ago when it still felt like winter here in Salt Lake City, I went skiing.  I love to ski.  This season has not been the best ski season.  Heck, this year has not been the best year.  It was a perfect ski day: not too cold and blue skies.  I headed up to Alta, a skiers-only resort with beautiful vistas and great ski runs.  I have a pass that allows me access to 5 ski resorts in Utah, and this one is part of the list.  It was midweek, so a generally quiet day.  The lifts open at 9.  By 10, there were very few people on the lift lines.  I was enjoying the beauty and solitude.

When I got to the top of one of the lifts, I noticed a young woman flagging me down.  She asked me to take her picture.  I said, “sure!”  She was so excited and grateful.  She told me I was the best person in the world (really?  Had she ever heard of Gandhi?).  She told me she was a nanny.  The family she worked for was vacationing from Atlanta.  They had brought her along to watch the children, but right now the children were attending a ski lesson.  

We started her photo shoot.  She placed herself in the spot she wanted the picture taken.  I started taking photos from her phone.  I took horizontal shots and vertical shots.  Then, she asked me to take the pictures with another background.  Again, I took horizontal shots and vertical shots.  She took a look at the photos.  She didn’t like her shadow in some of the shots.  She didn’t like the ones that were “too close up,” as she described it.  I took more pictures.  It was her phone, there was no cost for film.  I’m retired; I had all the time in the world.  She kept making poses: changing her lip shape, moving her arm up and down, turning her head different ways.  I kept snapping the pictures.  

Then she told me it was my turn.  She took my phone.  She said, “I’ll make you look like a model!”  I told her, “I don’t want to look like a model.  I just want to look like me.”  She snapped a few shots.  “Put your arm up!” she shouted.  “Smile!  Laugh!”  I followed her commands.  When she was done she said, “Now switch your direction so I can take your photos with the other background.”  I moved and she proceeded to take more pictures, telling me what to do with my body.  When she was done, she gave me the phone back.  I put the phone in my pocket.  

She looked at her photos and decided they weren’t good enough.  “Can you take a few more?” she asked.  “Sure thing!” I said.  I took more photos as she moved her body around some more.  When we were done she thanked me again.  She said she could pay me if I wanted.  I laughed and refused the payment.  It was no issue for me.

“Do you want to look at your pictures?” she asked.  “No,” I said.  “It doesn’t matter.  You took pictures of me.  As long as they are of me, I’m ok.”  She said, “But what if they don’t look good enough for you?”  Again I said, “They are pictures of me.  When I got here today, I had no expectations of having my picture taken.  Your taking my pictures is just a plus!”

I had to chuckle inside.  I really didn’t care what my pictures looked like, because they were me.  I didn’t want to twist my body to look thinner or tilt my chin to look younger.  I wanted to see the real authentic me.  And that’s what those pictures represented.  I accept my body as it is.  I felt sad that the woman needed so many pictures taken.  I thought she was lovely.  I thought some of the pictures really looked stunning.  I felt sad that she thought she needed so many pictures taken to capture her beautiful essence.  Really, she only needed one.  Perhaps my disinterest in looking at the photos she took might spark some body acceptance in her.  

I feel sad when I hear people say, “Oh I look so bad in that picture.”  You look like you.  A picture captures a memory.  It is as close to reality as we can get.  When we shame ourselves in pictures, what are we saying about how we think of ourselves?  I hope when you get the opportunity to ski in a special space, you take a photo and cherish it.  I hope when you finally get to travel (even if it’s only to the next town), you take a picture and cherish it.

Remember the days when taking pictures was a gift?  You had to make sure you had a camera with you, film, and even a flash bulb?  You waited days, maybe even weeks for the picture.  It was such a treat when those memories arrived.  Even before that time, when cameras were first being introduced, people rarely experienced the opportunity to get their pictures taken.  Maybe it was a wedding photo or a family photo.  It was a truly cherished memory.  Let’s go back to that essence.  Let’s enjoy the memories of ourselves.

(The subject agreed to allow her photo in this post.)