Is Posting Pictures Vanity?

A reader of my blog has recently commented that they feel it is vain to post pictures on Facebook.

I found it to be a thought-provoking comment.

Here's the comment, which was written in response to my March 12, 2012 blog entry Posting Pictures Can Be Perilous. 

"this depends on how you look at it i dont have the guts to post a pic because i think i am not vain enough to do so face book is all about being vain so all i have to say is good luck with that".

My response was this: 

I don't see Facebook as being all about being vain. For me, working from home, and being busy with the needs of a large family, I have little chance to keep in touch with the outside world, including many family members and friends who live far away. I so appreciate it when they put up photos to keep me apprised of a piece of their lives. Vanity has nothing to do with it when I share pictures. In fact, some of the photos of myself I've shared, I've done so with a cringe, knowing it isn't one of the best ones I could take, but knowing how much I appreciate it when others post photos, I do unto others, ya know? :) 

And hey, you think Facebook is geared towards vanity, check out some other sites that are even more focused on photos, like Dailybooth, Hot Or Not, and Piczo, to name a few I've experienced personally.

Furthermore, now there are also "GIF" sites, like gifyo, where people can click a button to record a short GIF file (which, in case you don't know, stands for "graphic interchange format", pronounced "jiff", and is basically a moving picture that replays over and over).

Here's a link for my favorite GIF - the Snoopy Dance - which I almost posted here but have removed it because it was distracting me while I wrote, so it might also distract others while they read.

But there I go with my digression...

Back to the topic of posting pictures and vanity.

My love for being in front of and behind cameras was alive and growing even back in the 80s.

Is it really vanity to want to show yourself to others?

Is it vanity to want to capture a photo of something that you'd like to share with others?

Are women being vain by putting on makeup to hide their flaws and enhance their features?

Are men being vain by working out and wearing tight jeans to show off their butts?

Should we all wear burqa-like security blankies and hide behind them?

Are we wrong to crave positive attention and have someone say words to the effect of "you're beautiful"?

Are we not wired to love and be loved?

 (YouTube video here, "Circle Of Friends" by Point Of Grace).

Especially with people of opposing genders, it can be awkward to say you like their pictures, lest it be taken the wrong way, unless it's meant to be the wrong way, which, in some cases, isn't the wrong way at all.

The confusion, though, I think, is a side effect of our Hollywood-ized society where compliments are often taken as "hitting on".

Heck, most of the pictures I post receive little to no comment whatsoever, and if I dwell on it, I can feel pretty sorry for myself, and question why I continue putting more of them up.

But then, see my quote above about "do unto others".

Maybe it is vanity, differing in degree from one person to the next.  Like with opinions, mine may not be the same as yours, shaped by our individual life experiences and knowledge.

I haven't answered anything definitively here, have I?  I guess I really don't know the answers.

What are your answers to these questions? 

With love,

Dig my writing?  Click "follow" at the top left, and read more in the posts listed in the right hand column.

Here are some quick links for a few of my other blog entries:

• According To Him, I'm Beautiful
• Wow, I Love Being Ignored - Don't You?
• Don't Let Me Get Me 
• Mozart And Me 

Posting Pictures Can Be Perilous

Have you ever hesitated to post a picture of yourself on Facebook because you're not sure how it will be received by the audience?

Well, I never used to, but now I might.

I recently posted a picture on Facebook that turned into a bit of a controversy in my world.

It was this one:

I don't expect everyone to like my pictures, but it does seem sensible that mature adult friends would keep contumely comments to themselves, or if they really feel strongly about the offensive nature of my picture, address me privately about it in a respectful manner.

When all three comments I received on the photo were ones that led me to feel that the picture must have looked pretty bad, I felt hurt.

One comment was, "Woah, it ain't Halloween yet."

Another was, "Should we ask what happened?"

And the other was, "You look like you just drove down our road, lol." (From a friend who lives an hour from me where this time of year I assume has muddy/slushy roads).

I emailed my 18-year-old daughter and asked her to have a look and give me her opinion on whether or not the pictures were bad and should be removed.  She posted her comment on another picture, this one here:

Her words were:  "Mom you're hot. And I'm really your only facebook friend who matters so disregard the rest. :)"

My reply concerning that was, "Well, thank you. Coming from one as beautiful as you, I am highly complimented."


After a few days and still feeling troubled by the comments, I talked to my buddy, Shakira* (*names always changed in my blogging) about it.  She read them and also thought they were unnecessarily rude.

I tried to ignore the whole situation, but I felt what I felt, and whether or not the writers of the words intended to hurt me, I did feel violated.

So, I brought the picture to the top of my Facebook wall, stating that it had become controversial and I wondered if anyone else deemed it bad enough that I should delete it.

There were a lot of comments, none of them in the direction of suggesting I remove it, and most to the contrary, stating that the picture was good, even (gasp!) sexy.

Still, I was wallowing in freshly re-wounded emotions, and I couldn't help but hear a little of the "yeah, y'all are just saying that coz you're nice" tune playing in my head.

I've come a long way from the down-on-myself person I was before leaving the abusive ex, who actually said the textbook line "you are too ugly for any other guy to ever like you" before I got brave enough to leave him, but having been triggered by a few less than positive comments, I realize I still have a way to go in my healing.

Even before my 18 year prison sentence with the ex, I dealt with negativity about the way I look.  In my first years of elementary school it wasn't so bad, being a child in East Vancouver where everyone was accepted in their uniqueness of cultural backgrounds, but when I moved to a ritzy-rich suburb at the age of nine, where my carpenter father built us a house we couldn't otherwise have afforded had it not been for his Serbian frugality and his construction skills, I was the target of bad attitudes from boys and girls alike.

Me and my sis, age 8 and 6, by our dad's old car.  (I covered sis's face as she gets mad when I post pictures of her.)

I was tall, skinny, unfashionably dressed, the class "spock" (what they negatively called academically smart kids back then), a girly-girl who hated sports, and my hair was a mess.

I was an extremely shy kid, to boot, so I didn't do anything to stop the onslaught of taunts.

And I believed them, too.   

Age 10, by my old pool - a good camera was not a priority for us

Age 11 with some of my bunnies.

Age 12 (my dad sometimes gave us kids a beer to share)

I really thought I was the worst sight to have insulted the face of the planet.

Looking at the above photos, I see I was actually a cute kid.

But in those years, I was persuaded by the perception of fellow immature brats to believe otherwise.

So, with that mind twisting as a basis, hearing words to the effect of "you're ugly" and a near complete absence of anything resembling "you're beautiful", for 18 years from the man who was supposedly my partner, my bad attitude about my appearance was reinforced.

Then the comments on Facebook showed up, and the ghosts of insecurity and self deprecation were evoked, and I was once again the shy child, afraid to show her face, needing to hide behind something.

Behind what?

Behind whom?

The spiritual side of me wants to say, "I hid behind God," but in my state of emotional time travel to when I was "the ugly girl", I didn't even think of that.

The truth is, though, I'm already hidden in Him - buried in His love so deep, the darts of human words cannot alter who I am eternally - His child - but there remains the fact that I am on this temporal and fallen planet and thus am still prone to pain.

Some positives about which I remind myself:

-I've finally got my hair grown to a length I've always wanted.

-I've taken care to keep my weight at a healthy level and get back in shape through working out after all seven pregnancies.  It was a lot of hard work and I think I've done an acceptable job of it.

-I've got seven beautiful children and if they look anything like me - which they do - I MUST look good. 

Me and my three oldest daughters in various states of weirdness, January 2012, Vancouver Planetarium, waiting to get into Pink Floyd "Dark Side Of The Moon" for one of the final showings of Skylights.

-For the most part, I'm confident to be photographed and to publish many of my pictures.

-I have a man who thinks I'm the most lovely thing that has graced the face of this planet, who almost daily calls me "Beautiful", "Gorgeous", and other sweet names, and that helps me not feel so alien.

-I can put on makeup to cover up and/or enhance - like this:

Left:  Before, without makeup.     Right:  After, with makeup done on Taaz makeover site.

I need to focus on the positives and let my confidence grow back to where it should be.

Still, it only takes a little arsenic in a heap of otherwise healthy food in order to kill a rat, and it's hard to keep up the positivity when triggers happen.

I wonder if anyone is even going to read this.

I wonder if anyone can relate in the least.

Were you ever put down and picked on in your childhood?  Does it still linger in the shadows of your mind and resurface when unsuspecting people inadvertently say something that triggers you?  I'd like to hear about it.  That's what the comment box is for.

(The writer in me is now cringing that I ended a sentence with a preposition, but sometimes I just have to let it slide and say, "Shaddap, little voice in my head!"  And while I'm yelling at voices in my head, I'm also gonna tell that other one that's saying "you're so ugly" to shaddap.  OK?  SHADDAP!)

I feel a little better now.

I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?

With love,

Randomosities Of a Long Haired Person

On a long-hair discussion board, the topic of stereotypes of long-haired people was brought up.  I will share my contribution here so the bored person has something to read.




So, a few things I'll throw out there about me, for whatever it's worth, in no particular order:

1. I wear Birkenstocks, sometimes even in winter

2. For 12 years, I baked all my bread (ground my own wheat, too - had to quit when I had to start working for a living)

3. I've made my own gluten-free, sugar-free granola many times (sweetened only with stevia)

4. I generally avoid sugar

5. I have a homeopathic doctor who's helped my family in many ways

6. I also have a naturopathic doctor

7. I'll go to an allopathic doctor if absolutely necessary but they have seldom helped me

8. I gave birth to my last (7th) baby at home, unassisted, with not even a doula (not brave, not crazy, just educated!) (That birth story at this link)

9. I'm a staunch homeschooler, but some of my kids do go to public school (against my will - long story, see here:  Why I Escaped and From What Did I Escape?)

10. Sometimes I wear makeup, sometimes I don't

11. I love tie-dyed clothing, own a lot, and have made a bit myself

12. I'm a poet

13. I'm a writer

14. Sometimes I wear long skirts, sometimes yoga pants, sometimes jeans, sometimes camo, but always cotton

15. I play guitar passably, and sing

16. My musical taste is eclectic - metal, country, folk, random alternate unnamed style, Christian, etc

17. I drink green tea with stevia and organic soy milk

18. I love apples

19. I believe that Jesus died for my sins, on the third day He rose again, and that I will spend eternity in heaven with Him.

20. There's more to me than that, but I gotta get back to work (doing medical transcription here at home).

Tuning a guitar in a hotel room...

Back of my hair just before I got it trimmed (after not having a trim in 10-1/2 months), 34-1/2" length from crown of head, over top of head, down to longest point at waist.

For more long haired rambling, here's another entry from this same blogger:  Hair Wasn't Easy To Grow

Hair Wasn't Easy To Grow

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I'm still so grateful that my hair has finally decided to grow. For years it wouldn't grow, and had a big chunk in the back that was actually shrinking.

When I was 13, my hair was nearly half-way down my back.  Then I went to a hair salon and said, "I'd like a cut that suits my face, but I want to keep the length."

I've got another pic that shows the length better, but this one will do for now - me, age 13, pre-haircut.

They chopped it to my shoulders!

I was devastated.  :(

Throughout my teen years, in the 80s, I kept waiting for my hair to grow, but it kept looking terrible.  I got perms in hopes of making it look better, but that only hindered the growth by damaging it.

Me and my icky shoulder-length 80s hair, age 15.  I was so frickin self-conscious about it back then.

When I was 19, a friend of a friend needed a hair model on whom to practice, so I volunteered.  My hair was about half-way down my back at that point.  I showed him a picture of a style I liked as far as how the front and sides looked, but asked him to keep the length.

He hacked it to my shoulders!

Again, I was devastated.

The following year, the same stylist needed a hair model for hair extensions, and so I got what was then worth about $400 in extensions put into my hair for free.  I had waist-length hair for a few months, but the maintenance was a hassle, having to spray it with this horrible-smelling aerosol called Monosil.  I got them removed when the sun bleached my natural hair but failed to change the colour of the artificial locks.

Over the years, I tried all kinds of hair products, vitamins, and supplements.  Nothing helped.

I tried the "get your hair trimmed every eight weeks" line the beauty salon people tried to tell me.  That only made my hair shrink faster.

My last perm, 1998.

The one thing that seemed to make a difference was getting out of a very stressful situation - I left the abusive relationship I'd been in from age 18 to 36.

Sure, the years between age 13 and 18 didn't involve the abusive guy, but I was living an unhealthy life in those days, with plenty of cigarettes, drugs, and alcohol, so those surely didn't help my fussy hair any more than the perms did.

Here are some progress photos:


This was spring 2003. See the chunk missing on the right? I had gotten trims to make it all even and it kept shrinking up, breaking off, whatever. (The small picture on top is to show the proper colour of my hair). I think the growth problems were due to heavy stress I was under for many years.



February 2004, shortly after I left the abusive guy I was with for 18 years. I had gotten my hair cut at a beauty school. They took off way more than I wanted, but I was then starting with a clean slate of 17" hair.



Summer 2005 - me with my sweet man. My hair is finally growing!




A progress page I threw together a few years ago. On the bottom right, you can see how much they had to trim to get it somewhat even. The chunk broke off again over a few months. Was so frustrating!



And now, here's one from March 2011:

Just got highlights and long layers put in. My hair is 32" long, aiming to have more inches than years of life (I'm 44 here).  (Edited to say:  I need PhotoShop to edit that light circle off my jeans!)




(Showing the highlights I got in early March, 2011, with my hair up).


~Originally written in March 2011 on a long hair message board, by me.

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Updated June 7, 2012 to add more recent photos:

January 2012

Curls done by one of my daughters with a clampless curling iron, May 2012

May 2012, age 45, with a few platinum streaks done in February