To post or Not to post…that is the question

Do you remember the days of 35mm film, or did I just age myself?

I was in a conversation the other day where we were talking about the pros and cons of digital vs 35mm photography. Which do you prefer?

Back in the days of 35mm, you couldn’t see what you just took a picture of. It may not be perfect. (Bite your nails and pray that at least ONE picture turned out!) You had 24, maybe even 36 chances to get a picture of what you wanted, then you had to take the roll of film out of the camera, take it to the drug store, and wait about a week to see what turned out. You could ask for duplicate prints if you wanted to share. And there were times I got duplicates of fuzzy pictures with not a single photo I could use, and nothing to show for my day with the camera. I also had a time where we learned we were about 25 feet from a giant bull moose in the mountains when we opened the door of our tent as the sun was starting to come up. My flash went off and all that turned out in the picture (weeks later) was the reflection of the flash off the moose’s eyes…two little yellow dots with a black background. Ugh!

You also had to be careful not to let the film get too hot or cold, or get exposed to light, and you better take care of those negatives in case you wanted to reprint something or get something enlarged! And those precious photos you took went directly into a hard cover album so you could share them and keep them forever, regardless if they were “perfect”.

Fast forward to today – we all have digital cameras, or even better, our phones! We snap as many pictures as we want and then proceed to stare at the camera or phone for a while (even in the presence of our friends or family) to choose the perfect images. And if everyone wasn’t smiling in the picture? Well, delete that one and start over. Candid shots? A thing of the past. Why actually GET candid shots when you can MAKE it look candid? And how about those precious hundreds of photos on your phone? Are you going to print them and put them in a photo album? Oh HELL no, just post the few perfect ones on social media and move along. But keep the 1000s of photos right there on your phone, because you can just get a memory card to keep them or, better yet, buy more storage on your device so they can continue to sit there forever.

And how “real” are those photos you post? You make sure the lighting is just right, everyone’s smiles are perfect, the hair is just right, suck the gut in, stick the boobs out…there you go, post THAT one! Success! Now you look just like the cover of that magazine you passed by earlier in the day. Because heaven forbid you post the picture that has a shirt on the floor behind you, or a hair out of place, or you catch someone mid-laugh with that real twinkle in their eye. And heaven forbid you post a picture without makeup, or a bra, and that sweaty workout selfie? Fix your ponytail first so it’s straight. Pull your top straight so your rolls don’t show…

What’s the point to all of this? We’re all striving for some form of “perfect” that doesn’t exist. My perfect and your perfect likely aren’t the same. You and I probably don’t drink the same adult beverage. Maybe you don’t even drink an adult beverage – gasp! For years I posted only “perfect” images. My ex and I would pose for several selfies (because who asks a STRANGER to take a picture for you anymore?) while on “date night”, while we kept checking our watches to see if it was too early to pick the kids up from their “parents night out” activity, because we apparently couldn’t figure out what to do as a couple for the whole 4 hours of their activity. Perfect happy couple? Of course! Don’t these smiles show that everything is perfect? The best real smiles we had were back in 35mm days when we stared at each other dreamily. Sure we had more recent real smiles, but it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies either.

And my workout photos? I had my remote on my write and I could take video after video or photo after photo, then would spend the next 10 minutes (my “cool down”) sorting through to find the ones where my belly rolls didn’t show, my granny arms weren’t evident, I didn’t have a goofy look on my face…and I would post the best. Now I post the goofy ones. Because those are real. And sometimes when my kids are working out with me, they do the most adorable things, and there’s no way I could delete those videos or pictures just because I don’t look perfect. Those are the ones I have to share, because they’re precious. Real life is precious. We should post more of that.

The blame game

Why does there always have to be someone to blame?

My 9-year-old commented the other night that he “wonders what daddy’s take is on the divorce”. He knows my version, but he was told there’s more to the story.

I could have taken a nasty “it’s all his fault” approach. Instead I had told the kids it was nobody’s fault, which is really the truth. But I guess at the same time, we were both at fault. I said we both took each other for granted and grew apart and that we didn’t work out anymore. At which my middle child once responded “but you DO both work out”…yes we exercise but we didn’t work TOGETHER anymore. We didn’t grow together. We became two separate people living in the same home. On social media we looked perfect, because we had an image to uphold. I didn’t post a picture unless it was perfect. I didn’t post workout pictures where you could see my rolls. I didn’t post a picture with bad hair. I didn’t post a picture that didn’t make us look happy. But, that’s a topic for another post…

Why does there need to be more to the story? Why does it have to be someone’s fault? Why can’t we admit that neither of us held up our ends of the marriage? We’re all adults here, except the kids. Let’s let the kids be kids.

Hello there!

Let me introduce myself…I am a mother of 3 crazy boys, work full time, would rather spend more time in nature…oh yeah, and I’ve been divorced twice. How’s that for a blind introduction?

I’ve had a crazy past couple of years, which it turns out actually has been longer than a couple years. While doing a lot of reading for personal development, I realized I wasn’t where I wanted to be in life. I tried to get my partner in crime to grow with me, but instead we grew apart – badly. And I ended up in therapy. How am I the one to end up in therapy? Who knows, but I’m glad I did. I learned that my troubles started long before husband #2 came into the picture…even long before husband #1!

Adulting is hard. Parenting is hard. Spousing (is that even a word??) is even harder. I’m about to embark on a journey that I’m hoping will help at least one other person out there on the word wide interweb. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has struggled with perfectionism, wondered if she was a good enough mom/wife/sister/daughter…wondered if she made the right choices…wondered how in the world she got where she is… Am I??

If you are even a little bit intrigued as to what kind of stories I might share, please bookmark my page, share as you see fit with other stressed out mamas out there, sit back with a glass of wine, or beer, or tea or coffee or water…and read on…