Portrait Five

As part of my 32 Things Before 32 List, I am attempting to take one self-portrait per month. This one is for the month of December. Yet again, just like the months before, we are already into the beginning of the next month. 

I am now five portraits in on this series and I feel a certain level of frustration whenever I embark upon taking the next photograph. I am usually the one behind the camera lens, not in front of it. I hate to admit how many photos I took to land on this one for photograph number five. This past year has not been kind to my view of myself and I always feel like a photograph never really lies to you. But, here we are. Number five. 

I'm ready for a new year and a refreshed view of who I am. I spent half of last year pregnant and the other half trying to find my footing as a mom to two littles. I feel like I have spent the last 365 days caring for most everyone other than myself. Sure, I did a Whole 30 in October which gave me some light but other than that, I am sleep deprived and haven't taken very good care of myself. That's what I see in this photograph: a tired mom that has poured into everyone else's cup before my own. I am realizing, ever so slowly, that you can't pour from an empty cup. 

Let me say that again...

You cannot pour from an empty cup. 

I always love new years and how the world goes into goal setting mode. I make my lists and really start allowing myself to dive into my dreams. There's one thing I know for certain as we head into 2018, I must take care of myself as well. I'm not totally sure what this looks like yet but I'm willing to ask the hard questions to get there. I'm willing to work on setting aside the time to take care of myself and find rest. I want to be my very best for the people that I do life with. I want to feel good in my own skin. 

Portait Five. 

Portrait One

(One of the things on my 32 Things Before 32 list is to take a self-portrait once per month. Here's August.) 

I see a lot of things when I look at this photograph. I hate to admit how many pictures I took before I landed on one that was decent, at least in my mind.  I'm usually the girl behind the camera not the one in front of the camera. I feel a lot of things looking at this photograph. I had a baby a mere seven weeks ago and I can see the extra weight on my frame and in my face. My pants are a few sizes larger than I would like them to be. I wear a lot of tunics right now. In the past, I have always shied away from being in photographs when I don't feel the best in my own skin. I don't feel the best in my own skin lately. Postpartum skin is always an adventure and a process.  Healing from a c-section has been something I would like to not have to experience ever again. I'm ravenously hungry pretty much all of the time when I am breastfeeding and never feel fully satisfied. 

Sure, I have some weight to lose. Sure, my eyes look tired because I have a seven week old and a toddler to care for. Sure, there are some things I would change. 

But, you know what else I see? I see a woman that carried two children for 9 months each in this body. I have fed and nurtured two children with this body. I see a woman that is trying her best to parent two children well and to give them the very best life that we can in our home. I see a woman that is strong and capable. I see of woman that has dreams and aspirations, goals and hopes. I see a woman that is in a season that has never before been experienced. A new challenge, a new hope. 

"From the very beginning, we grow and mature because problems propel us towards solutions. Hunger drives us to attain what we do not have; discomforts push us through frustrations. So our babies grow strong, creative, and smart-- because they persevere. In the same way, our adult minds and bodies do not thrive through comfort, but challenge. Life throws a million curveballs demanding brave responses. By walking though the darkness, taking every despairing step until we reach the land of dawn-- this is how we learn to love goodness, to sacrifice for beauty, and to cultivate enough hope for the next time. Even if next time the valley is darker and longer than before."  

Catherine McNiel   Long Days of Small Things