I know me pretty damned well. For the most part I know what I like and what I don’t. I know what i know. I know how I feel. And while I am open-minded I am not easily swayed.
There are a few food items I swore I would never like that a clever cook proved me wrong. There are others I will eat because they are good for me and I can keep them down. They will never be my first or even my 100th choice. The smell, the texture, whatever the reason. Those items are just not for me.
I feel the same way about dresses and skirts. The thought of wearing them doesn’t make me break out in hives any more but if there is any way NOT to wear one…most times I’m going that way. They’re just not for me.
There are people who like seeing their own form in 2D that they even take pictures of themselves when no one else is around to do it for them. I believe they call them selfies. Now I admit once or twice I have resorted to this in order to have a picture of an outfit with me so I could make my trip to Charming Charlie’s a worthwhile trip. But I had no urge to post it, send it or share it. It was a tool not recreation.
I spent this week trying to justify to other people my dislike of cameras and having my picture taken. It was probably the number of people who acted as if there was something inherently wrong with me or my feelings that caught my attention. It made me question whether my attitude toward this issue was a knee-jerk reaction or a real self esteem issue as was suggested. I analyzed it. Meditated on it. Journaled about it and finally chewed it up and spit it out.
Conclusion. I simply don’t care for it. It’s not my thing and I don’t need to justify it any more than I need to justify my dislike of dresses, Lima beans, okra, chitterlings or salami. It’s just not my thing.