NOTE: This got super-duper long, and I don’t expect anyone to read through to the bitter end. It was just important for me to put this out. 🙂 Also… this was a really vulnerable post to write, which I’m sure you’ll realize when (um, if) you read it.
Something that has become increasingly clear to me – whether others have noticed or not – is the fact that I share very few photos on my blog. If you engage with me on Instagram – and follow me, especially – you may have noticed that the same thing is true over there. Of the few photos I have shared, none are of me, as far as I know.
This has become glaringly obvious as I read multiple blogs that I love, in part, for the pictures, and as I connect with the same people on IG.
Even if you haven’t noticed, it’s been bugging me that the difference is so obvious, and so this post is my attempt to explain that. Before I even get into it, I do want to say that this was a very vulnerable post for me to write, as it touches not only on practical reasons why but also some highly personal ones.
But starting with the practical… there are 2 main reasons: 1) my desire to keep my work and personal lives as separate as possible, and 2) the fact that I live in, well, a not-very-scenic area of my town (and the immediate area around where I live is where I, of course, spend the most time). As I’ve mentioned on the blog, I work at a public (state) University. I’m easily Google-able if one knows my first and last name. I have always viewed my work life as being completely separate from my personal life. People at work only know as much about me as I want to share, of course, but that really isn’t a whole lot. I do share some things (e.g., where I live, if people ask, although I’m a bit vague about the exact location) but nothing that I consider very personal. I do have a couple of close(r) friends from work who know a bit more, but they are closed books when it comes to sharing with others, so I know that anything I do share will stay with them. That’s important to me, so I don’t plan to change it.
And re: where I live, well, it’s the truth! I live in what can’t really be classified as a true urban environment, or a true suburban environment. I think of it as “built-up suburbia”? And I think it’s a unique type of environment that occurs more frequently in towns – like this one – with highly transient populations (in this case, University students, staff, and faculty). I live in a boring apartment complex. My apartment “view” is of another building in the complex. I don’t have ready access to a true nature trail unless I drive to another location – the trail by my apartment goes along some very not-scenic train tracks. And my pictures would reflect that. I know that I can find beauty anywhere, but honestly, there is very little natural beauty (or even interesting neighborhoods, sadly) near me. So yeah, lack of supply of nice photos –> no photos for the blog. Or IG. (Note that I DO share photos when I happen to be in a lovely location that lends itself to beautiful photos… however, you know, COVID. So that hasn’t really happened recently…)
And that brings us to the personal reasons. Oof. This is harder to explain and the more I think about it the more discombobulated I get. So I’ll try to make this logical and understandable… The main reason I don’t post pictures of myself is I dislike – intensely – my physical appearance. Before you go down the road of body dysmorphia, or imposed societal expectations, know that the primary reason I feel this way is how different my appearance is from how I looked most of my life. If you compared a photo of me now to one from 12+ years ago, you would be hard-pressed to say it was the same person.
There are multiple reasons for this change, but the primary ones are medical, related to several acute issues I’ve had over the last decade+ as well as the (as yet undiagnosed) chronic condition with which I live. Some of the changes have resulted from behaviors I’ve changed over time, but most of those are also related to the acute and chronic medical issues.
So when I look in the mirror (which I try very hard not to do, to be honest), for a second, I don’t recognize myself. I don’t see “me” in pictures – I see someone else. And I don’t like how she looks – particularly when I think about why I look this way. It’s been a long (medical) road for a decade+ and I’m always, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I never know when an acute event will occur, with additional ramifications for my health AND my appearance. I never know if new symptoms (often affecting my appearance in some way) are just temporary, or related to my chronic condition. The unknown is one of my least favorite things, but I try to accept it because I don’t really have a choice.
The physical manifestations of my whatever-it-is also make me look (I hate to put it this way) not normal. Different. Unusual. They are things I can’t control, no matter how hard I try, and because they are physical manifestations, many of them are visible to others. And of course they show up in pictures, too. So I not only don’t recognize myself in pictures, I’m also confronted with external evidence of the medical issues every time I look at one.
That is why there are no pictures of me on the blog or on IG. Oh, and there is one other completely stupid reason. I cannot take a selfie. I literally have never, ever been able to take a reasonably decent selfie. I end up being all forehead. I know this is related to phone angles and how I hold the phone and the lighting and etc. etc. etc. but I’ve never been able to figure out the right combo!
Wow. This got long. Lots to unpack here. Let me first say that while I dislike how I look now, I do NOT dislike myself. I love who I have become over time. I love my stubbornness, my insistence on creating my own unique path, and of finally embracing my differences and weirdness.
I have no idea how to end this post. If you read this far, well, you have greater fortitude than I would have had in the same situation! While this was a hard post to write, I felt it was a necessary one, and so, in my quest to have Courage this year, decided that it was time. As I work towards at least accepting – if not loving – my body and face, I find comfort (as always) in some of Mary Oliver’s words (from one of my favorites, Wild Geese):
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
This is a very interesting topic! I had indeed “noticed” your lack of photos, but I never really thought much of it. I just assumed you preferred more anonymity. 🙂 It does make me a little sad to hear of your struggles with your image. You explained it well, however, in that it’s not really a “typical” semi-imagined/dysmorphic style body image issue, but due to an actual medical condition. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that! I am VERY glad that you did point out, however, that despite that, you do love who you are. It’s cliche, but really, what’s inside matters so much more than what’s outside. 🙂 (And re your location, I assure you there are many beautiful places nearby you could photograph!! Maybe a spring challenge? Get out and find them and document some of them, even if only privately, for yourself? 😉 )
I obviously share many, many photos, and I sometimes have mixed feelings on it. Of course there is always a little nagging fear in the back of my mind….am I sharing too much? This is a public platform. There are weirdos out there….should I be doing this? Not to mention sharing things about my kids/ family… who is really seeing my posts? Are there are any long term implications?? I like to share what I do, because the blog is mostly “for me”, anyway….but the thoughts are still there. Like you also said, it’s not hard to figure out who people are or where they live these days.
Also, all the “security” type issues aside, I also sometimes have fears or discomfort surrounding certain real life people finding the blog or my online presence. I’ve shared it with a select handful of real life people, but sometimes I feel like I might be a little mortified if other real life people I know found it. Not because I post anything “bad” or particularly “embarrassing”, but I share many vulnerable thoughts, feelings, and am pretty open online, more than I probably even am in real life. I wonder what some people I know might think of it. Is it cheesy? Dorky? Is all my “gratitude stuff” lame? I don’t know. Haha.
So much to unpack here – but first, thanks for your supportive comments about my medical issues. They’re a pain in the neck (well, and other parts of the body, too) but that’s life! And you’re right – there are some nice places around where I live, it’s just a matter of finding them. I tend to focus on the buildings and the lack of scenery but that certainly isn’t all there is!
I think decisions about what to share on blogs is so variable – it’s really what each individual is comfortable with. I do completely understand your trepidation about how to balance writing too much with wanting to write about what’s important to you. I like to think that “real life” people who would come across your blog – or mine! – would be appropriately discreet and not, you know, broadcast the existence of the blog to everyone else. But oh, you’re totally right about sharing the vulnerabilities and challenges. My fear that a “real life” person could find the blog does spike periodically. And, it’s hard to balance how much you want to share something on the blog with the admittedly-remote possibility of a real life acquaintance finding it. So I guess there are no easy answers, and we just muddle on as best we can? 🙂 Seems like that is what we do, anyway!
Girlfriend, I am totally with you. My blog has no pictures of faces except for the dog, and you won’t find my name (spoiler: it’s not Beckett) or where I live. I have put a few pictures of myself on IG but that’s as far as I’ve gone. A few friends and family members know about the blog but otherwise it’s totally separate from the rest of my life. I just like having a “space” where I can write what I want.
While I do appreciate a gorgeous picture, I’m here to read about real people who write real words.
You know, I honestly don’t think I ever noticed the lack of people-pictures on your site. And yes, I’ve wondered where you live but you give few clues. So I’m completely clueless about who you are in “real life”, if that makes you feel better! 🙂 And, you’re totally right about “real people who write real words”. The blogs I’ve unfollowed over the years – and there have been many – have been the ones that change over to “influencer” type blogs as opposed to the real life blogs I like to follow. I’m so glad to have fallen into this little community of people who still have those real life blogs – I was worried that they were getting influenced and SEO’d out of existence. And, I’m sure you don’t need to hear this, but I love reading your posts about all that is going on in your world. (Not to mention, learning about old movies that I never knew existed! Ha)
I had a work colleague/acquaintance who died quite young. She and I basically had the same job in the same company at different geographic locations and were frequently assigned as roommates for trainings, so I knew her and liked her. We spent a few enjoyable evenings doing math problems and watching Law & Order together, but I didn’t really know her well. And when she died, her father realized that he had exactly one photo of her. She never allowed herself to be photographed. Her reasons for this are unknown (to me, at least), but her father was so distraught. His pleas to her co-workers and friends to find any photos of her and send them to him were heartbreaking.
I feel so much for you that photos don’t show who you are and how you view yourself. And if you’re not comfortable publishing photos on the internet, you absolutely should not! But maybe have just a few on your phone in case the worst happens?
I’m also really sorry that you’re going through a terrible (and long!) time with an unknown health condition. When my husband was diagnosed with celiac more than twenty years ago, he was quite sick for a very long time. Celiac wasn’t quite as top of mind then as it is now and he really doesn’t like to talk/think about that time. It’s so stressful knowing something is wrong, but not knowing what it is or how to make it better. I wish you good luck in finding a diagnosis.
In terms of unattractive geographic location, I certainly have been there before. I’m lucky enough to live half a mile from an adorable park (often swampy and mosquito-filled, but it LOOKS gorgeous 80% of the year), but I do know where you’re coming from. If I didn’t have that park and my pets, my Instagram would be pretty empty, too!
Thanks for sharing that story, NGS, and making me think about others in my life and how my reluctance to be photographed might impact them. I do let others take pictures of me, I just prefer not to look at them. 😉 My parents have plenty – not as many as they’d like, I suspect, but that’s okay. (Also, “doing math problems” with one’s travel mate sounds like my parallel paper writing with colleagues…)
Thanks for sharing, too, that your husband also experienced what I call a diagnostic odyssey. It’s so frustrating to have something new pop up what seems like every day and wonder whether it’s just something random or whether it’s related to my whatever-it-is. (And yes, I do call it that!) The diagnostic possibilities have lists of symptoms that are pages long so… it seems like it could be anything, some days! Hopefully something will finally declare itself enough to stick out from the pack and I might be able to go on meds that actually *treat* what I have. We shall see…
You also have a cat and a dog, both adorable beyond measure! So that’s another thing – no other sentient beings in my apartment to photograph. I really, really, really wish I were not allergic to cats. I think I could really enjoy having one around. Sigh.
Living in a suburb like that, I can totally understand why you don’t take photos. How you describe your area reminds me of what in Sweden is called “Miljonprogrammet” – a project back in the 60s that aimed to create good housing for everyone so they built up large areas of apartment blocks (all looking like somewhere in Russia, grey boxes). Many (most?) of these areas are now the centre of the shootings, gang violence, many times family conflicts than end in killings – also called “no-go zones” because they are too dangerous. I hope your area is not as bad!
I’m so sad to hear about your medical conditions and how they affect your appearance. No matter how much inner beauty counts more, our outer appearance and how we feel about it IS important. And waiting for the next blow (as with your condition, or anything!) is a HUGE stress factor. Hugs to you.
This is definitely a built-up area, but fortunately it sounds a bit more aesthetically pleasing than what you were saddled with in Sweden. And, as yet, there is not a lot of crime in the area (fingers crossed it stays that way). It’s just very… commercial and high-capacity residential, if that makes sense? but not in a very cohesive/walkable/thought out format. So it’s like stretches of road where there’s retail-retail-parking lot for retail-apartments-apartments-crossroad-repeat as before. 🙂 Boooring. But as Kae said, there are nice places around, I just have to seek them out!
You’re right. Appearance does matter no matter how much we discount it. Sigh. It does take a lot of courage, seriously, to show up in person sometimes. I always struggle with how much to explain and how much to just let go. When asked direct questions (as some of my students did!) then I will of course answer. But it does get tiring, to be honest. And thanks for the hug. I needed it. 🙂
I am sorry you feel that way about how you look and that the way you look has changed so much, out of your control, in the past 12 years. I never expect people to have photos. It’s entirely up to each person what they share from their lives! <3
Thank you so much… it’s just so, well, WEIRD to look so different from how you looked before. And if it were just losing weight, fine, but it’s other things, as well.
I think I worry too much about the lack of photos, given these replies! I know that everyone does what works for them, and I need to remember that! I do LOVE seeing others’ photos – in your posts, I particularly like the ones of you and your family. You all have such happy smiles, and you always look like you are enjoying each others’ company. It makes me smile, too. 🙂
Vulnerable posts like this are so scary to push publish on, aren’t they? I want to give you a great big hug for sharing this vulnerability with us! Like Kae, I had noticed your lack of photos but thought you just wanted your anonymity. I am really sorry to hear that you’ve been dealing with these medical issues and that they have affected the way you look. It is so hard when our outside doesn’t match how good we feel on our inside, doesn’t it? I am glad you feel good about who you are and are happy with yourself, and I hope that you can go on a healing journey of accepting what you look like on the outside. I’ve struggled with body image issues a LOT and I think you never really get to a place of total acceptance, especially as a woman, because there are so many things we go through that change our bodies and our looks. We just have to keep striving for acceptance. <3 What has really helped me is following people online that look the way I look (for me, that's people who are fat and lovingly show off their bodies) because it reminds me that there are so many ways to look. When we only see the same "ideal" body/looks, it reminds us that we are "other" when we're really not.
But I just want you to know that you are a bright soul and I am very much glad you are in my life. <3
Stephany, you always leave such kind and thoughtful comments. Thank you. And yes, vulnerable posts are so hard to put “out there” for all to see… not that anyone is actively searching for my blog! (I hope!) You’re so right when you say that it’s hard when our outside doesn’t match our inside. That’s one reason it’s so hard to look in the mirror – my mental image of myself is about 10 years out of date, unfortunately. I know you, too, have struggled with body image issues, and I admire you so much for the strength you’ve shown and the acceptance you now show yourself. One challenge with my body issues is that there aren’t – to my knowledge – people struggling with this exact issue, although perhaps there ARE other people out there who are dealing with condition-related appearance changes. Hmm… is there a Facebook group for that? 😉 (Just kidding!)
I’m so glad you’re in my life, too, and the light and joy you bring to my world. Seriously – you and Kim are the reason I’m trying to figure out whether there is ANY way I can get a cat (since they, um, make it kind of hard for me to breathe… Darn allergies!). Your cats and the pictures and the IG stories you share of them bring the biggest smile to my face! 🙂 <3
Oh Anne…
Your comments have been such a source of joy (and reflection) for me over the last few months as we’ve connected through the wonders of the internet. How I wish I lived across the hall and could pop over this very minute to give you a long hug and then chat over a bottomless pot of tea (if you like tea, that is).
But we live in separate countries and I don’t even know what words to write here except: I’ve never seen a picture of you, but your beauty shines through in this space in what you write and how you view and prorcess the world.
I am so deeply sorry for the chronic condition you’re living with; it can feel isolating and overwhelming and never-ending. If I had a magic wand I’d wave it and make this all go away. Instead, I just have to say I truly hope your medical team is able to help you navigate these challenges and that you come through to the other side with some answers and an action plan.
I’m also sorry that the physical manifestations of your health issues cause discomfort. I can’t directly relate, but I AM a woman who struggles with body image and so I understand at least in part. I also appreciate that you can love your body and how it supports your life, while also feeling confused by the outward changes that have happened.
We all have “hard” in our lives and I sincerely believe sharing it makes us all stronger, as cliche as that might sound. So thank you for sharing, for being vulnerable, and for continuing to let your beautiful self shine through in this internet space.
<3
Elisabeth, thank you so, so much for this comment. I would welcome the hug – and the tea (although at this point in the day it should probably be herbal… ;>). I do so wish that apparating a la HP were possible. Wouldn’t it be lovely to just pop across the border and drop in on each other when we need each other’s support? Time to make that happen, I think.
I have read your posts on body image and weight and know that you can relate… particularly to the feeling of sometimes being uncomfortable in your physical body (at least, that is how it seems from how I have interpreted your absolutely wonderful and insightful writing on the topic). I know, too, that you have had your own long struggles with health and the diagnostic (and treatment) odyssey, and that you’re still navigating that. You’re right – it can be so hard, but sharing can help lighten the load for all of us, whatever the “hard” might be.
I have so appreciated learning more about your life, and your perspective, and how you navigate these challenges. It reminds me that no, I’m not the only one. It’s not just me who has difficulty (literally) facing myself in the mirror. There are others out there who share these challenges in different ways, and we are all stronger together. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words, and your support. You are a light in my life, and I’m so glad you are! <3
I’m so glad you found my blog, and that I found yours 😉 Your medical struggles reminded me of a very painful (physically and emotionally) time in my life. I’ve always had very sensitive skin…I don’t break out in pimples and such, but rashes and eczema to the max. Several years ago, we underwent a very extensive home remodel, and my skin (especially on my face) was in a constant state of turmoil. It took several doctor visits (my family doctor, as well as an allergist, and a dermatologist) to finally determine a weird allergy I have to cobalt dichloride…which is found in cement dust, ceramics, grout, etc. Our house had a never-ending cloud of drywall dust for months, and it was wreaking havoc on me. Let’s just say it looked (and felt) like I had a permanent second-degree sunburn for the better part of a year. Once diagnosed, it then took several more months of treatment with steroids before things even started to return to (somewhat) normal. While I don’t know the extent of your condition (I suspect yours may be much worse than mine was), I can relate to how you feel. I wish I could give you a hug, too….
Kim, thank you so much for your comment. I’ve been reading your blog for a couple of years at this point, and I’ve rarely (if ever) commented. I just love your positive outlook on life, and the glimpses into life in Iowa, which was home for so long! I am no longer able to run, so I also live vicariously through your stories of your runs and races. (I admit to a bit of envy, too, when I read about a particularly excellent run…)
And, thanks for sharing about your own really challenging health issue. I can’t imagine the impact that had on you – and the frustration that I know I would have felt in the same situation. Not having the answers – despite actively seeking them – can be so, so, difficult. I’m glad they were able to eventually figure it out and determine an effective treatment. That’s what I am hoping for, too!
I appreciate you sharing something so vulnerable and I’m so sorry that you’ve been struggled with a chronic issue. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. One thing I do want to say- no matter how you may look on the outside (or think you may look)- you are an absolute beautiful person. I hope you know that.
Gretchen, thank you so much for your comment. This community is so supportive and, well, kind. I knew that, which is why I felt comfortable even putting this out there! And, well, this is just what I have to deal with – it could be a lot worse, in a lot of different ways. (That said, I have yet another unexplained, frustrating, and annoying symptom now. For the past 3 weeks. I’ll figure it out eventually, I suppose!)
I am commenting on this very late and I wish I could have read this sooner to chime in and support what everybody else here already said: you’re an absolutely beautiful person, Anne, and I am so very sorry you’re struggling with (unresolved) medical issues that have also affected your appearance and self-recognition.
It’s funny (not the haha-kind) because I’ve just talked about this very thing with my best friend from high school who I saw when I was visiting back home, as she’s experienced a lot of medical issues in the last decade, which have also affected her appearance and her sense of self. While she’s still the same beautiful person to me, I recognize and acknowledge how hard it must have been for her to come to terms with these changes. So, I really empathize with you, too. It’s frustrating to not see that same person in the mirror that you used to be.
I had noticed the lack of pictures on your blog, but although thought that you preferred the anonymity (esp. as you’re a public person as a professor at a university). I figured you’d not like for people to find your blog by googling your name/photo. There’s something “freeing” to have a space where you can just write without the fear or being “found out”… like Kae mentioned, I sometimes struggle with how much to share and put out there
While I really love to have an “image” of the people that I interact with in my head, it’s absolutely okay not to share photos. It does not take away from your words and spirit that you share here with us! I am sending you a big hug and want to remind you: you’re beautiful inside and out and I appreciate your honesty and vulnerability in this post.
San, thank you so much for your lovely and kind and supportive comment. It sounds like your best friend and I have a lot in common… and it makes me wonder how common this phenomenon is. Probably more than I think it is! (Side note… I think we all think we are the only ones who struggle/deal/live with [issue], when in reality there are likely many others who deal/live with similar things. The challenge, of course, is finding each other!) I think it’s the lack of control – and the realization that this is me, now, and that I need to work on accepting who I am now and what I look like. That is hard… particularly when old pictures show me as I am in my head.
You are SO right about how freeing it is to be (relatively) anonymous. I know that those who share more often struggle – and adjust their approaches as their perspectives change or (not relevant to you, but…) their kids get older. I like mental images of bloggers, but even more, I like having a mental map of where they live (approximately). That way, I can connect who the person is (through their writing on their blog) With where they are. It just seems more, I don’t know, connected?
Anyway, thank you, again, for your kind comments. I always, always appreciate them.
I realize that should have been “also” not “although” in my comment. I know the difference 😉
Ha! I didn’t even notice! (Which is saying a lot for this nitpicky professor… ;>)
Oh Anne, I just want to give you a great big hug. I am so sorry you have such a medical condition that manifests itself in this way, and that makes your appearance so distasteful for you. All I can say is that your inner beauty shines through. I know that writing posts like this can be difficult and can make you feel vulnerable, please know I’m sending lots of love and good thoughts your way. xo
Thanks for your sweet and supportive comment, Nicole. It’s not easy, but well, that’s just part of life for me right now. I do wonder whether or when there will be a day when mirrors aren’t such a challenge for me. I suppose the only thing I can do at this point is just, well, keep trying! Maybe, eventually, I will get used to how I look now. And if I’m not used to it, maybe I can learn to at least accept it.