Yesterday I blogged on the challenges of matching – unquestionably real, potentially life-changing challenges that have kept me thinking, worrying, hoping, pondering, analysing, digging deep and then deeper.
Well today I want to talk about a (hopefully) rather more superficial struggle. Or perhaps, actually, this is *the* BIGGIE!
My Social Worker asked for a photo. Not the (rubbish) passport photo I provided at the beginning but one to go with my “profile”.
This is not, for me, a good development.
I am remarkably self-accepting in most ways in terms of looks and self-presentation. If I am clean, tidy (enough), my hair has been brushed (or at least a comb dragged through wet hair at least once in the morning) … well generally that’ll do. I smile at myself in passing in the mirror occasionally – but I’m quite able to leave the house without having even looked in a mirror. Yes, not exactly high maintenance me (or not in this respect anyway!).
But photos. Photos of me are not my thing. I am not, as I wrote on Twitter, one of the #SelfieGeneration. I’ve never seen the attraction of ruining a perfectly good picture of a tree, a beach, a river, a building or a group of friends with a shot of me that will always make me sigh slightly.
So … the Social Worker helpfully provides some suggestions:
- I should be smiling and happy (to demonstrate I’m a cheerful person I assume, and not some kind of evil monster?!)
- I should be on my own (if there’s anyone else in the photo it’ll lead to confusion seeing as how I’m a singly adopter)
- I should be directly face on
- … and preferably I should be doing something interesting that reflects my personality.
Er … you whaaaaaa?
Of course I adopted a helpful, logical, sensible response to this challenge from my Social Worker. That is, this #NotTheSelfieGeneration potential adopter did precisely nothing about it at all for a couple of weeks.
Apparently ignoring things doesn’t actually make them go away though.
So, bracing myself, I eventually asked friends who I met up with a couple of weekends ago to try and take photos of me (ouch). I then squirmed and wasn’t very helpful or receptive when they tried to do as I’d requested. And of course I haven’t get got around to asking one friend for his photos anyway! More photos were snapped by another friend as we wandered around a city being tourists. We were lucky and had gorgeous sun and warmth. Which of course … meant the few photos we managed were all shadows and squinting. That was it. Those were my attempts to rise to this challenge.
Eventually, therefore, this weekend my trusted (and already famous on this blog) Mum came to the rescue by taking some photos using my own phone as we dog-walked in a local forest. I’m still not convinced but at least we tried. (I don’t suppose I can use any of the ones with my Mum’s lovely dog though as again that would be confusing, although they do actually show me doing something which of course none of the others do – and of course they’re the best photos she took!)
I guess I need to keep snapping. I know that at some point I’m going to have to do lots of photos (assuming that one day the much hoped for link-then-match stage takes place) so I might as well keep practising. (I’m definitely stealing the best idea I’ve spotted from someone else online – to take several T-shirts and spend all day out and about doing all your photos in one fail swoop!)
You never know, I might even get a few I like if I keep taking as many as possible. I guess it’s possible. Maybe I’ll even become addicted and join the #SelfieGeneration – but I wouldn’t hold your breath gentle reader! For now at least I remain happily with my own sort: proud to be among those who, like me, consider themselves very firmly #NotTheSelfieGeneration.