A Shocking Self Reflection, Done Entirely In Selfies
I mean sure, I talk about rape, domestic violence, and child abuse. I also let the details of my financially disastrous life and humiliating break-ups hang out all over Internet land, but seriously Eden, why did I need to back it up with so much photographic evidence?
Did I see any other bloggers willingly posting “I just got out of bed and I have no makeup on” photos? (And no, I’m not talking about the “I got back in bed for the photo after I took a shower and applied natural looking makeup” photos that I’m fairly convinced most bloggers use, but I’m talking about an actual picture where I literally got out of bed, and applied nothing but hair removal cream, and then posted it all for you to see.)
Did I see anyone else doing weird shit like that?
Did I see any other bloggers super excited when they discovered that Walgreens had a sex section?
In fact while most people were posting pictures of their lavish dinner parties, I’m over here having footie pajama parties with my Platonic Hubby.
And super strange fashion shows with some super bizarre outfit that Frisbee Boy’s Mom gave me.
In fact, speaking of her, do you remember the time Frisbee Boy’s Mom convinced me to try on what I can only assume was some stranger’s sex shoes? Or as she called them “Come fuck me” shoes?
WHY DID I EVER AGREE TO THAT??
I guess because I am also the kind of person that agrees to wear stuff like this.
And do things like this.
And layer like this.
And I know that some of you just come here to chat and get advice, but unfortunately sometimes all you get are conversations like the time I told you about my Platonic Husband taking me into the city where we got trapped in the parking garage (after watching a woman shopping while wearing slippers and a shower cap, and seeing a lady outside with her cat, who was wearing a sweater. Yes, the cat. Sweater. On the cat).
I don’t even remember what the hell this was, but I think it was for some post where I was angry…
And then there is my infamous editorial bio picture. I’ll never forget my editor emailing me after I uploaded it to ask “what the hell happened to your face?”
Or even better yet, there was the time I accidentally drew a penis on my face and didn’t even notice it until I got about a hundred emails from you guys, all asking why I had a dick face.
And while everyone else was posting pictures of their amazing midnight kiss on New Years Eve, this was me. Remember the New Years Eve party?
BECAUSE I GOTS CLASS!
Beach vacation photos? Not a chance, because where I was, it was -17 out.
Hot dance party? Apparently not, because I look like this kind of nerd.
5k training? (Seriously, is every, single, blogger also a runner these days?) Cuz although I do enjoy a good run, I’m over here posting pictures of myself running through foam and pretending that I’m some kind of athlete.
Cocktails and wine tasting? More like the time it took my Platonic Hubby and I nearly an entire bottle of rum to figure out how to make a daiquiri. I had never seen a blender overflow like that before…
Which you know by now is pretty typical of the weird shit that happens anytime I get together with my friends, because unlike all of the other bloggers and their super perfect friends, my friends are just as weird as I am. (Sorry friends. Love you.)
I mean sure, sometimes we get a couple of nice selfies out of our get togethers….
…But generally, just like us, there is nothing normal about our pics.
At least I’ve posted a few “normal-ish” photos of The Girl Child and me.
The Boy Child on the other hand…
I’m not sure how those kids are going to turn out as anything but strange, because have you seen their mother?
I mean everyone else is over on their blogs like “look at this amazing clothing ensemble that I have put together today, aren’t I fashionable?” And I’m over here like “let’s take our clothes off for a minute and talk about reclaiming our sexuality. Which, probably makes me the slutty blogger.
In fact, do you remember the goofy blog I wrote about wearing a new bra to the gym, and at one point I walked past the mirror and realized that it was riding up and I looked like a total slut? It was a post that was used to totally poked fun at myself….
… but also caused several readers to go completely ballistic that I would dare show so much skin. Instead of doing the normal blogger thing and issuing a politically correct apology, I egged them on by proclaiming that I was more than just my sexuality… complete with pictures to incite them.
Sure, I’ve tried to take a few “nice” selfies, but I just don’t feel like they are “me.”
But I can honestly say that I don’t like those pictures as much, because they are definitely missing my usual spunk!!
So if you are looking for the fashionable girl, with perfect children, politically correct yet-still-sexy selfies, who isn’t wearing hair removal cream (or an accidental dick) on her face, and doesn’t have a sticker mustache, then you are on the wrong blog.
Eventually I closed out all tabs that I had lined up across the top of my computer screen, each one linking to the page of a blogger who is apparently doing life right, and I sat there realizing that I wasn’t any of those other bloggers, and that I never would be.
I am just not that perfect.
In fact, sometimes I get paint in my hair.
Or accidentally draw a dick on my face.
As I continued to sit there and let it sink in that I’ve been over here blogging about what a disaster I am and how I’m doing it all wrong, everyone else has been taking their little corner of the Internet and using it to showcase how they’ve been doing life better than me. And while I let the panic ripple through me and fade out through my heart, I came to a startling conclusion.
I’m OK with that.