Self image is something I keep asking myself all the time.
I have a laundry list of qualities that I find unattractive in myself, much like many others. Most are related to my behavior and personality, while some are about how I look.

Is it gonna make me look like I’m zoning out while we talk?

In photos, especially in ‘selfies’ that eliminate the distance to hide some unattractive features, my look never seems to freeze where I would like it. Either my eyes are opened so wide it looks surprised, or they are nearly closed where only one can be seen, usually wandering off in another direction.

Hence I would try avoiding appearing before a camera. If at all any friend would suggest taking a photograph, or if at all, I was in that mood of being brave, I would ask somebody to take it and immediately erase it in disappointment.

The only time I did let pictures come to me was this one time I took a picture of my Nonna. I realized that my time with her was limited, and that once she was gone, it would be the only things that would be left for me.

I have valued every photo of her since she passed. It’s no big deal regarding my lazy eye, and it holds no significance about my awkward pose. Each photo is like a statement to something that was in our lives, representing a moment that would have otherwise been lost.

And suddenly, it hit me – every photo with loved ones has so much to it. Life and people that matter fill this life of mine so much, and I just can’t bear not capturing them all because of how I look in them.
Last year, I made a commitment to take more pictures of things in my life that matter, including pictures of myself.

After moving to a new apartment later in the year, a friend gave me magnetic photo frames for my refrigerator, and over the year, I have filled them with pictures that bring a smile to my face.

In the pictures, it’s clear that I am shorter than those around me. I look stiff and hunched over, my eyes looking the way they always do, and my wheelchair taking up quite a bit of the picture. But, when I look at my fridge, these aren’t the details that typically catch my eye.

Looking at the picture of me with my friend Denna and the ginger kitten she had in between us takes me through all those moments of us sharing laughter and being there for each other. It reminds me that the feeling is something that is always within my reach, something that at times seems unattainable, but never really so. I get it.

One more picture of my aunt, who has a face mask on for my safety as she poses next to my wheelchair. The shot was taken on the day she helped me with unpacking after my recent relocation. It reminds me that I am not alone and with that love I can make any place my home so long as I allow myself to embrace it.

One of the launch photos is of Tay, my friend, and me, both of us grinning in our wheelchairs, the poetry collection we just purchased balanced on our laps. Tay and I prop each other up, and that photograph is something that reminds me time and again that the weight of words, be they hers, mine, or anyone’s, stretches beyond what we may ever wrap our heads around.

My fridge is pretty cluttered with tons of reminders of the good in life-mostly blurry, sometimes awkward but always pretty.
Posting serves as social presence.
My Instagram feed is now a constant showing of Laura A true, filter-free, airbrush-free account.

Some posts are screen shots of articles that I have written, and show proof of work that I have published. Some depict time spent with friends, or lazy days at home. Every one of them means something.

I put in the captions the things I want to hold onto, things that might not come across in a picture but make the entire experience great for me: the ease of a location or event, inside jokes with my friends, and the singular happiness of feeling like I really fit in.

It "takes up space" on social media, something that, often enough, he feels undeservedly lucky about having. Shame and self-loathing will not, however, rule his actions or fuel a cycle of self-destruction. Come what may in terms of time, he’s committed to evolving, growing, and learning one picture at a time.

My photography project is always in progress. Sometimes, I catch a flash of my imperfections and want to change the many cheering reminders freeze-framed in photos, online, and on my fridge to help me recall that I am more than how I look and much more than my hard days.

This year, I plan to get another set of magnetic frames so I can grow my collection of affirmations and boost my self-love.
Every photo and every post declares: I am here. I have a voice. This tiny corner on the web shall be mine. I will not give in to self-loathing. I will be unconditionally, unapologetically me.