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Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
“Don't worry about life, you're not going to survive it anyway.”
Story: Me and Aveiz took a detour from planned route and got into furniture lanes near Nampally. While walking we found this person enjoying his morning tea. It was a golden hour and Sunlight was perfect and we both literally ran to him and start clicking. He was excellent subject, he did not move a bit (yes he freezed)and totally supporting us till we got our shots. He listened to our instructions and did everything we asked him. This guy was awesome, we thanked him and moved away with great satisfaction.
After a while when we looked back at him from distance. To our surprize he was nodding his head uncontrollably. We looked at each other and shocked :P
We realized, this guy was seriously mentally unstable, he could have grabbed us or thrown tea on us or he could have done anything crazy.
Street photography is definetly an awesome genre and great adventure.
Canon 5Dmk2 + 17-40 f4L
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet
No one laughs at God
When their airplane start to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for
No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very
poor
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
This was insane. It took over 20 bags to clear it out. And it doesn't even show the freezer or the bottom drawer.
I easily threw out over $1000 of rotted food. caviar, crab meat, shrimp, gourmet sauces from the farmers markets, pounds of goat cheese, brie, blue, pounds of butter, solid containers of rotted cream, cranberries that had turned into freeze dried puffs of air.
I was wearing gloves, but couldn't help washing them over and over every time I had to fill another bag. My hands are now raw.
There wasn't a single thing we were able to save, it all got tossed. Things were smashed into the fridge so hard that there were crushed and broken bottles in the back, and lots of liquid in the catch-all under the produce drawer.
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
While driving in the midwest, along straight highways for 6 or more hours, you and other drivers may encounter each other multiple times. You pass them, they pass you, somehow a relationship is established.
After passing and being passed by this particular car a number of times, I noticed that the woman driving presumably the mother of the kids was dressed fairly provocatively. After a moment of discussion Jesse and I decided it would be a great idea to make a small sign reading M.I.L.F. and display it between my arm and the window, the next step would be to pass them. As we road by pretending not to watch we could barely contain out excitement. A sideways glance confirmed they had read the message. Over the next 3 or so hours we would pass or be passed by this car repeatedly, when the kid in the front gave us the rock horns and shared his amazing lions mane with us we nearly swerved off the road laughing. The next and last time as we crossed into Colorado, we were greeted by a double moon, MILF at the wheel and her preteen riders, ass to the glass to bid us fair well.
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Unfortunately, this guy seemed to have a concussion as he was unable to fly and was continually bobbing his head uncontrollably. There was no way to get him to a vet to get treatment, so we just left him alone in peace.
I was scared to death of death. I suppose everyone is scared of death in some way, but I avoided thinking about it at all costs. When my significant other decided she wanted to get a dog, I loved the idea — except I knew that one day I would have to see it die, and so I resisted as long as I could. We ended up with two dogs, and when the first one died, I happened to be 3,000 miles away, which was a great relief to me.
I felt like I had dodged a bullet. The thought of being there when this thing happened was anathema to me. When my grandmother died, I cried for days, and then I talked myself into not going back for the funeral. I couldn’t deal with it.
I was a death-chicken. But I am also a dream worker: I explore individuals’ nightly forays into the realm of the unconscious. I work extensively with people’s nighttime dreams, run workshops at international conferences, have private clients, do occasional radio shows about dreams, and lecture on the subject.
When it comes to talking about death in the context of dreams, I am totally open to it and gung-ho about working with it. Death comes up often in dreams, and in my lexicon it is usually about transformation. Dreams speak a symbolic language, and death is an iconic symbol that may indicate change in one’s life, often a radical change. We get shot, beheaded, flattened by an elephant, fall and go splat on the concrete, shoot others, suffocate, get struck by lightning, have our bodies ripped open and all the organs pulled out, and—two of the most common—we drown in a tsunami or we fall to our death off a cliff.
It’s an old wives’ tale that if you die in your dream, you will actually die. I have died countless times in my dreams. I have willfully plunged into a vat of acid and felt myself die, I have been shot through the heart with an arrow and turned to stone, I have ridden across the river Styx with the ferryman into Hades, I have been eaten by a bear and died, and then woken up inside the dream realizing that I was inside the smelly bear.
It is odd that I was perfectly fine dealing with death in dreams, but in the waking world, I shrank from that reality. I became numb and distracted and made jokes and excuses when the subject came up.
That was my world until I had a pair of dreams that changed the way I saw death forever.
In the first dream, it is a warm afternoon and I am cruising on the Ventura Freeway. I get off at my exit and I just miss the light at the bottom, so I am the first in line for the next light. There is a sign that says “No turn on red” so I wait, but I have this strange feeling—something is not quite right. The light turns green, but my foot won’t step on the gas. The people behind me start beeping. I hesitate a second longer and then lurch forward. As I do so, a giant truck comes screaming at high speed across my path, blaring its horn and just missing me. “Oh my God, I would have been flattened for sure if I hadn’t hesitated,” I say out loud.
I woke up from that dream and didn’t think much of it. After all, we spend a lot of time driving freeways in Los Angeles, so it stands to reason we’ll dream about them.
Two months later, I was crawling east along the Ventura Freeway and I finally got to my exit and just missed the light at the bottom of the exit. I was first in line, and there was a sign that read “No turn on red.”
“Hmm…” I thought. “This reminds me of that dream I had!” And there was a red car on my left, just like in that dream. How odd. “But wait,” I told myself. “Big deal. I have been in this spot hundreds of times.” However, the feeling persisted that this was exactly like that dream I had. The light turned green. I started forward, but stopped suddenly, and sure enough, the horns blared. I still hesitated. I looked and didn’t see anything coming. I thought, “This is just silly. Go, you dummy!” I stepped on the gas, and a giant rumble shook my car as the exact same giant truck I dreamed about came screaming through the intersection. He missed me by inches! My heart was racing and I was yelling “Oh my God! Oh my God!” over and over.
I moved out into traffic, but suddenly an odd thing happened. My left arm started shaking uncontrollably, and so I pulled off the road into a parking space. Still shaking, I started talking to my body, as if I were working on a dream. “What’s wrong with you? We have had close calls before and you have just shrugged and moved on. What’s wrong with you?” And then my body really betrayed me — I started bawling. I sat there for twenty minutes, with NPR yammering on the radio in the background, as for some unknown reason I broke down in tears.
Then I really got it: “That dream saved my life! I would be dead right now if I hadn’t had that dream.” This was not like any close call I had ever had before, for a dream stepped in and saved me! But why all this crying? It slowly dawned on me that this had to do with the connection between dream death and real death.
The easy but very deep, even comfortable, way I had dealt with death in the dream realm had suddenly come alive in waking life and smacked me hard across the face. If death in dreams was transformation, perhaps death in life was also transformation. This was a moment of epiphany. I knew that I had to use this to help me deal with my extreme fear of death.
After that, I started reading about death. I trudged through the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and various other texts about death — a real investigation into death. But more importantly, when death was mentioned around me, I turned my soul toward it instead of away from it. I let death in.
And then the second dream appeared.
In this one, I am at a seminar with the Dalai Lama. It is a lively discussion with great minds and great humor. We are in his living room, which is round, with a Tibetan feel. We finish the seminar, and I fall asleep standing in the doorway while I am waiting for the group to leave. I then have a dream while asleep (a dream within a dream) and when I wake, I ask the Dalai Lama if I can tell him my dream, and he says, “Sure, come to the temple with us and tell your dream there.” The dream inside the dream is about my future. How cool that I might have the answer to what my life is about!
Now the strangest image appears. At the bottom of a path that leads to the high mountains sits an enormous vehicle that looks like one of those metal spinning tops that I had in my youth — the type with a handle that you pump up and down and the thing spins madly. Only this one is twenty feet across and has rockets on the sides. It is muted red and black and copper, and it has tassels and filigree work on the side, and gold Tibetan writing. The Dalai Lama and the group climb into this strange vehicle and it starts to spin as the rockets spray fire everywhere. As it whirls, there is a clanging and the sound of Tibetan horns. I am wide-eyed as the spinning top climbs the mountainside up to the temple.
I am going to go there also, but there is something I have to do before I go to the temple. I have to help a woman load a car. The car is a station wagon, much like the one my family used to take on summer vacations. The woman is both herself and at the same time she is also a child, a small child who is dressed like the Dalai Lama with those woolen striped clothes and a woolen striped hat with earflaps.
The child/woman is very hungry and she needs to eat before we go to the temple. She goes over to a taco truck and stands in line. While we are waiting for the food, I grab the child/woman and dance with her. “Holy, Holy…” We sing as I swing her about. This is fun and we both smile.
I notice that the spinning top vehicle is returning now, black and singed from the flames, returning empty to take its place for the next journey. It is late, and I am upset because we have probably missed the ceremony at the temple.
As I ponder this, a realization comes over me and shifts my whole mood. My body softens and relaxes. “The Dalai Lama wants to hear my dream and he will wait patiently at the temple. There is no rush to get there. It is totally guaranteed that my dream will be heard,” I say to myself.
I am suddenly aware that there is another place that the Dalai Lama and his group have to go. They leave the temple at the top of the mountain and they go to the end place, the place of death — which doesn’t feel like death at all. They are clearly going to death, but there is no fear and no dread. This is my answer, I think. Oh my God, this death thing is not death at all as we think of it! It is just a smiling journey in complete darkness that ends up at another temple. I mean, the Dalai Lama and his kin are headed there and it is no big deal. How cool is that? Death is just another place.
I woke up and recorded this dream, and when I got to the part about death being just another place, I had some sort of awakening that has stayed with me ever since. It is difficult to explain, but if you have ever had an experience like this you know how the soul can spend endless time searching for something and then the unexpected answer hits you upside the head like a huge truck. I live with death inside of me now, and it feels fine.
Oh, and when the second dog died? Well, I held him gently as they administered the drugs that caused his life to ebb from him. And I was fully present and tuned into what was going on. I saw his tiny spirit rise gently and leave the room. Some day mine will also, because I get it now. Death is just another place, a smiling journey in total darkness.
W. B.
TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture -- a pale blue eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded -- with what caution -- with what foresight, with what dissimulation, I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night about midnight I turned the latch of his door and opened it oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this? And then when my head was well in the room I undid the lantern cautiously -- oh, so cautiously -- cautiously (for the hinges creaked), I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights, every night just at midnight, but I found the eye always closed, and so it was impossible to do the work, for it was not the old man who vexed me but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed , to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.
Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was opening the door little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, for he moved on the bed suddenly as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back -- but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the shutters were close fastened through fear of robbers), and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.
I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening , and the old man sprang up in the bed, crying out, "Who's there?"
I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night hearkening to the death watches in the wall.
Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself, "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney, it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or, "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes he has been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions ; but he had found all in vain. ALL IN VAIN, because Death in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel, although he neither saw nor heard, to feel the presence of my head within the room.
When I had waited a long time very patiently without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little -- a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it -- you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily -- until at length a single dim ray like the thread of the spider shot out from the crevice and fell upon the vulture eye.
It was open, wide, wide open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness -- all a dull blue with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones, but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person, for I had directed the ray as if by instinct precisely upon the damned spot.
And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder, every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! -- do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -- the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once -- once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But for many minutes the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.
I took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly so cunningly, that no human eye -- not even his -- could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out -- no stain of any kind -- no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that.
When I had made an end of these labours, it was four o'clock -- still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, -- for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.
I smiled, -- for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search -- search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.
The officers were satisfied. My MANNER had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears; but still they sat, and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct : I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness -- until, at length, I found that the noise was NOT within my ears.
No doubt I now grew VERY pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased -- and what could I do? It was A LOW, DULL, QUICK SOUND -- MUCH SUCH A SOUND AS A WATCH MAKES WHEN ENVELOPED IN COTTON. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly, more vehemently but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why WOULD they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men, but the noise steadily increased. O God! what COULD I do? I foamed -- I raved -- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder -- louder -- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly , and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! -- no, no? They heard! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! -- this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! -- and now -- again -- hark! louder! louder! louder! LOUDER! --
"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the beating of his hideous heart!"
~Edgar Allen Poe
Created with www.dumpr.net - photo fun
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Deputy Chief Ron Vitiello testifies at a Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Subcommittee on the Efficiency and Effectiveness of Federal Programs and the Federal Workforce hearing on, “Examining the Use and Abuse of Administratively Uncontrollable Overtime (AUO) at the Department of Homeland Security. Photo By James Tourtellotte.
Boy, you should have seen my face turn beet-red!
Had a shoot with Justis today, lent him my clothes, and they should turn out just dandy. First paid model shoot!
I realized today why all of my friends and acquaintances I've shot in the past have laughed uncontrollably when we first start shooting. Literally, every person I've shot who hasn't "modeled" before has burst into a fit of the giggles when I first start shooting after I give them a little coaching on how to move, pose, look, etc.
Then, it suddenly hit me when Justis started laughing when I told him to give me really intense eyes. You know what it was? He (and all of the others before him) were all nervous! Nervous!!
I would have never guessed. It makes sense in retroscope, of course; when someone is asking you to be "fierce like a tiger", of course you're gonna get very anxious and nervous. I know I would. They have little idea of what I want them to look like and they feel silly for doing "what the famous models do".
Anyone else ever encountered this?
In other news, my friend and upcoming model Emma was hit from behind in a car wreck today! Her neck was sore, but everything checked out. How scary.
Then we went to a spinning class at Gold's, and I'm pretty sure they have drains for all the sweat that drips to the floor, because good god, does that class make you sweat!
Got into a health kick after these two incidents, so I'm getting in touch with my chi here. Then again, I'm probably doing it wrong, especially when my face is redder than a tomato.
58/365
brolly cam left
Doing a second set of smoke abstracts on incense sticks instead of the uncontrollable candle smoke from last time. It's actually quite interesting to watch how they flow differently... :)
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Not much chance of drying the washing at Dudley Port on Saturday 31st January 1970, one of the most horribly cold days I remember. It is difficult to recall exactly where this was taken. I wrote the grid reference SO963920 on the back of the print, probably not long after it was taken and while the day was fresh in my mind. However this would place us very close to the canal ...something I think I would have remembered. Something tells me this was near the station.
Even though I was wearing an ex-army greatcoat I had become so chilled that I decided to give up the rest of the day's itinerary and return home by the next available train. I had just missed one and spent half an hour on the platform of Dudley Port Station, shivering uncontrollably. Never was the heated interior of a railway carriage so gratefully entered.
Merc fact #89
He is never naughty.
For the group's Shaming Challenge...
Even as a puppy, he never (and I don't use that word lightly) was naughty. He has an old, wise soul in his body -- no chewing stuff up, no stealing of food, no barking uncontrollably, no nada, nothing. He's a suck-up. I guess that maybe he's shameful in the eyes of our more creative four legger friends, eh?
Mother of a child... she sometimes wear things that just makes people stare uncontrollably for hours at a time!! I tell her that the building doesn't need heat in the winter if she wears "that" all the time!!
LOL at anyone googling 'sexy boots' and expecting something else! In the Canadian Tire marketing video for these, the presenter kisses his boots (I'm assuming in an uncontrollable fit of passion stemming from how extremely sexy they are). Hence the title.
With his limp wrist and his last remaining fingers pointing skywards,Scruffy Burka danced uncontrollably to his favourite song........CLUBFOOT
www.medilaw.tv - Illustrates the surgical technique for performing a lumbar corpectomy, also known as a lumbar vertebrectomy. This procedure is used to remove one or more vertebral bodies and the adjacent intervertebral discs that are causing uncontrollable pain or are compressing the adjacent spinal cord or nerve roots. A metal cage filled with bone chips is being used to replace the excised tissue and maintain correct alignment. There are many different techniques to achieve the same end result, a pain-free, stable, anatomically positioned bony fusion. However, the basic procedure illustrated here is common to all lumbar corpectomies. Also shown is the removal of the pathological vertebral body and discs, the metal cage insertion, x-ray position checks and finally wound closure.
Corpectomy, or vertebrectomy, refers to the removal and replacement of a vertebra and the intervertebral discs above and below it. This is usually done because they are compressing the spinal cord in the back. A length of bone or a synthetic cage containing bone fragments or artificial bone replaces the vertebra and discs to form a strut to maintain the normal height and alignment of the back. The bone graft will fuse with the vertebra above and below, to form a solid, stable mass. A corpectomy can be used to replace a number of adjacent vertebrae, in which case an additional posterior fusion with metal screws and rods may be required to maintain stability of the graft while it fuses.
INDICATIONS
If a vertebra is damaged and needs replacing, or the front of the spinal canal is being compressed, causing pain, weakness or numbness in the legs, then a corpectomy may be required. The structures that can compress the anterior spinal cord include the vertebral body, the intervertebral disc and the posterior longitudinal ligament. The diseases that can cause this compression include infected, malignant or fractured vertebral bodies, degenerative disc disease and other diseases causing spinal instability.
ALTERNATIVES
The non-surgical alternatives to corpectomy may be
- activity modification
- weight loss
- aerobic exercise, such as walking, cycling, and swimming
- strength and flexibility exercises
- physical therapy
- hydrotherapy
- heat and cold pads
- acupuncture
- pain-relieving medications such as acetaminophen or paracetamol, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, glucosamine, chondroitin
The surgical alternatives to corpectomy may be
- steroid and local anesthetic injections
- surgical fusion
- disc replacement surgery, or arthroplasty.
GOALS
The goals of a corpectomy are to remove any pressure from the adjacent spinal cord, and to stabilize the spine in a pain-free, normal alignment.
TECHNIQUE
You will be lying on your back. Your abdomen will be cleaned. An incision will be made and the overlying muscles moved to the side. Your surgeon will confirm the correct disc for removal by using x-ray imaging. Any anterior vertebral body bone spurs (lipping, osteophytes) will be trimmed. Pins will be used to open up the collapsed disc spaces to regain normal spine alignment. The discs will be removed. Then the vertebral body will be channeled and a metal / plastic cage inserted. Bone chips will be added to assist fusion. X-rays will be performed to check the cage's position. The muscles will be replaced, and the wound closed with sutures. A drainage tube will be left in the wound. medicolegal videos
Made with Cinder.
Stills from a weekend project. I wanted to try and recreate the scene from Cuarón's "Gravity" when Sandra Bullock's character tumbles uncontrollably away from the destroyed shuttle.
104/365
Joe hasn't displayed any discomfort in a few days now. He's been off meds for even longer. He's been given the green light to begin short walks on a short leash. His energy is thru the roof and uncontrollable, but he needs to keep resting for another week. Mission impossible. The upcoming bad weather will be a welcome change from the sunny 80-degree week we just had.
Even better news, is a dog named Rooster, who was hit by a truck a week before Joe's shakeup, also appears to have fully recovered and is getting back to normal as well :-)
Basanta Utsav literally means the 'celebration of spring'. ...
Annually celebrated in March, the festival is an occassion to invite the colourful spring season with utmost warmth. What is appreciated is the grace and diginified manner in which Vasant Utsav is celebrated in Bengal as compared to uncontrollable Holi witnessed in most parts of India. The beautiful tradition of celebrating spring festival in Bengal was first started by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore at Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan.
Eric's good friends Jody and Zibby took us for a fun ride on the water with "uncontrollable urge", their bayliner 175.
I'm getting used to the fact that Vancouver is surrounded by so much nature, but I was really blown away to see the amazing view from the boat.
A big thanks to Jody, Zibby and cutie Tristan.
We made a brief stop at Deep Cove, North Vancouver.
.
We lay beneath the branches here in summer heat as passions rose. Clammy hands groped and fondled with adolescent clumsiness and you laughed at me, those blue eyes teasing my very soul as you pushed me away. I craved your love though you wanted nothing more from me than a shoulder to cry on, a friend in your hour of need.
In the Autumn months we walked alone and talked for hours, settling beneath the broad span of branches from this tree of beauty and wisdom much. I loved you from the knees of my heart, as you cried uncontrollably and told me of the man you desired. He was not I, nor ever would be and now my own eyes flow with tears of regret these decades later, an older man I stand alone and full of memories. You hold a place within my heart, you tear at the sinews of my very soul as I recall your porcelain like skin, your perfect smile, the way you used to brush the strands of wispy hair from your delicate features and blush when I looked at you that certain way. You always knew, you understood my feelings for you, and yet you could never love me as I hoped you surely would.
The tree still stands, as I walk the route we once did, hand in hand. The winter snow has coveted the landscape like a white velvet blanket as I stop and stand before the tree where once I confessed my all to you. This foolish boy, these stupid notions, that life so long ago when we were fresh faced and full of dreams and spirit too. Perhaps the years have been less kind to me than they ought to have been, my face a map of pain and misfortune, of missed opportunities and broken dreams, I stand in reverence at the spot where I told you that I loved you, that I always had, that same damn spot beneath the branches where you placed a finger upon my lips and hushed my words, with a shake of your head that crushed the very life from my bones.
I am older now and wiser, so conventional wisdom would have me believe. But what use is wisdom without a modicum of happiness as a permanent bedfellow? What use is honesty when it lies crushed upon the rocks of ridicule and contempt? If my memory serves me, you kissed me that day beneath the tree, and we never spoke again. And here today as the snow flakes fall around me like beautiful butterflies from the ash grey clouds, I feel eighteen again, the pain so real, the hurt within this tormented soul as real and palpable as he day you walked out of my life. We fall in love, we feel the pain of rejection then as now, like a knife to the heart. The what ifs the might have beens, the vagueries of avenues never explored nor contemplated. An age thing? A phase I'm, going through? The tree of love as once she was, seems to laugh at me now, to remind me of my weakness.
My eyes burn less brightly than the euphoric days of my youth, and my skin feels rough to the touch with silver hairs prevailant as , looking back on the boy within this man, I feel so foolish now. You left my life so many years ago, and yet still I remember, still I recall. And the tree of love reminds me of the goals I aspired to, the lust in my heart and the circumstance and folly of this life I have lead.......
.
Written December 1st 2010
Photograph taken on December 1st 2010 at Lesnes Abbey Woods in Bexleyheath, Kent, Engalnd.
Nikon D700 14mm 1/400s f/2.8 iso200
Nikkor AF-S 14-24mm f/2.8G ED IF. Manfrotto 055XPro carbon fiber tripod & Manfrotto 804RC2 3-way head. Nikon ML-3 infra red remote shutter release.
Just like anyone on social media, I like to fill my feed with happy images and highlights from my personal and professional life….but it’s time to start talking about the REAL stuff too!
Although it may seem like I have all of the happiness and confidence in the world if you look at my social media accounts, I have struggled with self esteem issues my entire life.
As a child, I grew up in an abusive environment filled with unresolved generational traumas where I was made to feel like I was the problem in myfamily, and unknowingly internalized that I as an individual was bad.
As with most abusive households, mine was an environment where nothing felt safe….even being myself. So, I began to develop a laundry list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a state of “survival mode” became my baseline as I entered my developmental years.
I felt so powerless under my father’s endless emotional abuse and violent outbursts at home, that I not only began to believe that type of behavior was normal, but also constantly felt the need to gain agency and assert my own will wherever possible. Which, obviously, did not go over well with my peers and teachers, and only caused me to more deeply internalize that I must be bad as I began to establish my sense of self outside of my family.
Like millions of other people with unresolved trauma, as things got worse for me emotionally, I turned to food for comfort, and quickly found myself significantly larger than almost everyone around me in elementary school. Something that my peers and father often made note of in cruel ways that hurt me so deeply and only further caused me to internalize that I must be bad.
Eventually, all of the shame that I felt during my childhood snowballed into deep depression and uncontrollable anxiety that I tried to heal with piles of prescriptions from different doctors that couldn’t seem to figure out what was “wrong” with me. When, in reality there was nothing “wrong” with me. I simply needed to find peace and be reminded that I AM GOOD.
Over the years - especially as I became an expectant mother at 17 years old and faced so much judgement for my choice to leave school in order to work while I was a pregnant - I found that excelling at my job served as an excellent surrogate for the validation I was seeking in my personal relationships, and I began to throw myself into my career, both as a way to support myself and my daughter as a single parent, and as a way to prove to myself through tangible means like paychecks and promotions that I was good.
It wasn’t until all of the unresolved trauma that I had been trying to bury with work began to manifest itself physically, that I finally accepted it was time to begin trying to show myself the love I knew I needed in order for my body to heal….even if the concept of being lovable still seemed totally forgeign to me, and I had no idea where to begin!
Abuse is a hard cycle to break, and self love is a hard lesson to learn. So, my path to healing was far from linear, or easy, but once I made that commitment to find and nurture the parts of myself that I loved, amazing things began to happen!
I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was losing my mind more than finding myself at first! But, as I began to explore myself as an energetic being and learn more about inner child and shadow work, I discovered that I wasn’t bad. I had just learned to protect (rather dysfunctionally) the vibrant, loving and vulnerable little Melissa who had learned that she needed to stay hidden in order to stay safe so long ago!
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can tell you, the hardest part about breaking the cycle is having no example of how to be any other way. My life had been filled with negativity for so long that I struggled to find myself in a peaceful situation even as I worked to heal myself.
As anyone who has recovered from abuse can also tell you, you just get used to it.
The pain and chaos becomes your baseline, and even when you are consciously in a state of growth away from that state of being, it’s all too easy to find yourself slipping back into relationships that make you feel most comfortable - even if they are simply toxic AF. Which is exactly what I was doing…..until I met Nate.
Before I met Nate, I had no idea what it felt like to be seen completely, and not only be accepted for who I was, but adored for it.
Most importantly though, Nate made me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, I was able to stop just surviving, and started thriving in ways I had forgotten that I was capable of.
It was like I had been trudging through mud my entire life, and was finally walking on solid ground for the first time when I finally learned to accept his love.
I began to see the entire world differently.
Instead of an endless stream of stressful situations and impending disasters, I started to see my life as promising and full of possibilities.
I began to see myself differently.
Instead of someone I felt I should be ashamed of, I started to see myself as someone kind and capable that I was proud to share with other people.
Once that shift occurred, I began to accomplish so many more things I felt that I could be proud of!
I learned to show myself the kindness I wish I had been shown, and found how freeing it can be to see the world through a less defensive lense.
I launched a successful private chef business out of nothing but my passion for food while I was still waiting tables and had nothing but my intuition to guide me.
I grew that little business into something that could provide a better life, and was finally able to start working for myself.
I built second, and third, businesses that provided me with more opportunities to do what I love, and a real sense that I was capable of so much good.
I started to be able to show up as my authentic self in social situations with less fear of being “seen” and judged for it.
But, even with all of those things to be proud of, I still held so much shame and anxiety around the idea that I was still somehow fundamentally bad at my core, and it was only a matter of time before I, and everyone else, would start to see it again.
The way that I had once used paychecks and promotions to provide myself with tangible evidence that I was good, I began to use images on social media as a tangible way for me to remind myself of all the positives when the negative self talk began to sneak into my mind.
At the time, I didn’t really think much into my motivation for posting about my life’s highlights on social media, because after all, it’s what everyone else does too and, let’s be honest - who doesn’t like getting likes?!
But when the pandemic hit last year and my ability to produce content that I felt I could use to prove to myself that I AM good was halted, it forced me to really examine the deeper emotional reasons that I felt it was so important for me to only share things that aligned with an image of positivity and success.
Being positive, and constantly focused on growth, is a huge part of who I am at my core - but it’s far from who I am all the time.
While I spent hours scrolling through social media during the early days of quarantine, I felt completely paralyzed as I watched other people post photos and videos of themselves functioning in ways I couldn’t even imagine in the moment.
It might sound silly, but when I felt the most lost in my emotions, just being able to just create and share a post about how to make a healthy smoothie made me feel like I was at least doing one thing I could be proud of, no matter how ashamed of myself I felt in the moment.
Thankfully, resilience seems to be my super power (dysfunctional as some of my survival mechanisms may be.) So, it didn’t take long for me to snap out of that depression and into that familiar feeling of “survival mode” that allowed me to begin working on ways to keep my businesses alive.
Being able to snap myself out of that paralyzing depression reminded me that I am a survivor and gave me the energy I needed to keep moving forward, but it also triggered all kinds of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I had worked so hard to move away from.
On the outside, I was pivoting like a pro. But, internally, it felt like my emotional state was falling to pieces.
Even though I knew that almost everyone else was struggling with their emotions as well, I just couldn’t bring myself to authentically share any of that darkness on social media.
I shared the smoothies.
I shared the healthy dinners.
I shared all of the milestones as I worked to rebuild my businesses.
Because that’s what made me feel safe.
What I didn’t share, was the insecurity.
What I didn't share, were the days that I could barely motivate myself to eat, let alone create something beautiful, or inspire anyone else to embrace taking care of themselves.
What I didn’t share, was the fear that everyone might see me at my worst and judge me for it.
What I didn’t share, was that I was really posting all of that for me, to prove to myself that I was still worthy of love - even though the only one who was even questioning that, was me!
Once I realized that I was using images on social media as a mask, I knew it was time to start healing those pieces of me that I still felt that I needed to hide.
I also knew that I wanted to share my story more authentically on social media somehow. But, I didn’t quite know how…..until I saw a post on Facebook from a local photographer working on a project about women sharing their authentic stories on social media, and it just spoke to me!
The concept was an unstyled shoot that showed the authentic me, accompanied by an essay to do the same - which seemed simple. But, it proved to be such a greater struggle than I had imagined!
The essay I could edit, and I’ve always loved to write, so I wasn’t worried about that. But, the photoshoot made me SO nervous!
Having grown up in a home where appearance and projecting the right image seemed to be of paramount importance, the idea of photos that might not portray me in the best light being published on the internet triggered all kinds of insecurities for me.
On the day of the shoot, I just chose to wear what was comfortable - the things I actually wear when I’m not trying to look a certain way.
I didn’t style my hair, or bother with more than my everyday makeup that consists of tinted moisturizer, a bit of bronzer and a little mascara.
If it were any regular day I would have felt perfectly comfortable with the way I looked.
In fact, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner right after the shoot and felt great about the way I looked for that experience! But, the idea of being photographed like that, especially outside by the water where the wind would inevitably reveal angles of my face that I find unflattering, gave me anxiety for days before the shoot.
When I arrived for the shoot, I was nervous and far from the outgoing, confident Melissa that usually arrives at photoshoots when I’m styled perfectly and feeling my best.
As we walked through the quiet woods with the snow crunching beneath my boots, I realized that I felt so nervous because I had shown up to this photoshoot as the little Melissa that I had learned to hide and protect.
As we began to shoot, I started to feel sad, and strange that this would be the side of me captured on camera for this project. But, I quickly realized that it wasn’t sadness for the situation at hand that I was feeling.
It was sadness for little Melissa who had internalized that she wasn’t worth being seen just as she was.
Throughout the shoot, I couldn’t seem to shake that sense of sadness and I worried the photos would be ruined because of it.
But, when I saw the photos from the shoot a few weeks later, I realized that as we were walking and talking throughout the shoot, the images that Nikki captured began to tell a story.
The first photos looked posed and happy. But, of course they did. Because that’s my favorite mask, especially in front of the camera! So, I obviously felt fine about those being shared.
But, then there were some awkward attempts at me actually being natural in front of a camera. Which completely triggered all of the negative self-talk that typically leads to me taking great measures to avoid photos like that from ever seeing the light of day.
As we moved on, I could see the vulnerability in my eyes as I tried to let my guard down, and I felt so exposed knowing that side of myself would be shared.
Once we were by the water though, I started to see a sense of ease, and even strength emerging in the photos. Even if they weren’t my best angles and my hair was a mess, it looked like ME!
Not the styled, polished version of myself that I feel safest showing the world, but the authentic me that I have no problem sharing with the people I feel safe with.
Don’t get me wrong - I very authentically do LOVE to get dressed up, and genuinely think it’s fun to play with personal styling. It’s just fun for me! But, participating in this project has really helped me to reflect on how much I had been using my image as a mask to protect myself from negative self-talk.
As we all know now, wearing a mask can keep us safe, but it also prevents us from being fully seen.
Yes, taking off your mask can be a risk, just like letting other people see you completely can be a risk.
But, as we all know now after a year full of physical masking, nothing feels better than FINALLY being able to take off your mask and just breathe!
Round 11
Puke formula: Ultra Agents Adam Acid head & torso, CMF Motorcycle legs assembly, CMF Street Skater ski beanie with brick graffiti pattern.
Puke inspiration: Everyone has an acid guy, so I did to. But really, the official minifig inspired me along with Jeremy Green's Dr. Toxin. I had this idea to make him a British punk similar to Sid Vicious and the name Puke came from a lot of research on acid and the like. I settled on Puke because it sounds nasty and also is you think about it, vomit is stomach acid, so there's a connection. His alter ego Sid Adams is a nod to the official character and also A Sid or ACID.
Toxanne formula: Ultra Agents Toxikita head and torso assembly, CMF Skater Girl legs assembly, Exo-Force Takeshi hair
Toxanne inspirations: Again, the official minifig plus me wanting a partner for Puke. Her look and style fit together and it was pretty easy. I like to think of her as an uncontrollable punk rock girl with a horrible chemical imbalance. Her alter ego is from just wanting to use the name Roxanne because it fit and also from a female wrestler whose real last name is Kardoni.
Drainbo formula: BrickForge beret, CMF Spooky Boy head, CMF Mime torso assembly.
Drainbo inspiration; The main inspiration came from the character Mr. Mime from the Power Puff Girls. I liked his abilities and tweaked them a little. I had him planned out for a very long time, but until I decided on the Spooky Boy head, I was stuck. A friend of mine used to call beople Drainbo's or psychic vampires that just drained the good mood right out of you. I liked the idea and decided to make him a little emo to go with it.
Check out their profiles here:
www.flickr.com/photos/51975999@N05/35226761313/in/album-7...
www.flickr.com/photos/51975999@N05/35674848910/in/album-7...
www.flickr.com/photos/51975999@N05/36664651571/in/album-7...
Hope you enjoyed it!
Built for the League of Lego Heroes
The bridge and the tunnel of the Matterhorn Gotthard Bahn in the Devil's Wall of the Schöllenen gorge. A mishap occurred during rock securing works shortly after noon. Two boulders crashed uncontrollably onto the bridge of the MGB and the footbridge below. The railway is out of service this week anyway because of construction works, but the hiking trail through the old military tunnel had to be closed. Nobody was harmed. Switzerland, Oct 18, 2017.
Deputy Chief Ron Vitiello testifies at a Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Subcommittee on the Efficiency and Effectiveness of Federal Programs and the Federal Workforce hearing on, “Examining the Use and Abuse of Administratively Uncontrollable Overtime (AUO) at the Department of Homeland Security. Photo By James Tourtellotte.
The artwork was made in a PC2 microbiology laboratory, using an experimental combination of artmaking and scientific practices. The photographic image depicts a cast of a small bowl and a dinner plate, made from a solidified mixture of agar and bacterial nutrient, onto which live, naturally pigmented, mildly pathogenic bacteria have been painted. Inscribed into, imprinted onto, or infused with the translucent jelly-like substrate, the bacteria grow unpredictably, and often uncontrollably, in response to the patterns or surface applications that I attempt to create for them. Rather than being the product of my creative efforts alone, the work is made through a process of organic collaboration between the bacteria and myself; they happen ‘with’ the agencies of the microbes in a dynamic process of exchange. I am constantly fascinated by the extraordinary creative abilities of my collaborators and their ingenious growth patterns.
The casts create a semblance of presence, of immediacy, of touch, yet also point to absence. They read as if they have been made of layers of exposed subcutaneous tissue. Devoid of the body’s protective epidermis, they are materially corporeal yet also eerie and spectral. Ethereal and ephemeral, they appear to be in varying states of decay. While they are preserved in the photographic moment, in actuality, although the bacteria’s growth has been chemically curtailed and thus ‘contained’, their agar surfaces are susceptible to contamination from eukaryotic micro-organisms such as fungi, yeasts and mould.
Although they are fairly ubiquitous, the styling, design and patterning of the bowl and plate bear similarities to those found in ranges of English Bone China. Reproductions of the original designs of the cast objects, and the originals that still exist, have become domestic ‘classics’ in many global post-colonies: in their reference to upper-class tastes and values, they have also become signifiers of middle-class consumption and status, and often act as markers of gentility or respectability. Through these precarious ‘things’ that are barely things, one is invited to try and grasp the ungraspable – fugitive, fragmented remembrances of familiarity, strangeness, comfort, dis-ease, intimacy, distance, vulnerability, trauma, complicity and loss.
The casts could also be read as spectral traces of colonial legacies that haunt domestic interiors and broader individual and collective imaginations in post-colonial contexts such as South Africa. They carry resonances of British Imperialism and colonialism the very mechanisms that drove the enculturation of capital through trade between Europe and Asia from the 16th to the 18th centuries. Sugar, tea, porcelain and other luxury goods were commodities of colonial commerce that the British East India Company shipped from Asia to Europe alongside enslaved peoples, themselves considered fungible objects of trade. Marking the dawn of a globalised world, trade created a market for cultural capital, leading to the consumption of household goods by the middle classes. If read against this historical backdrop of dispossession, exploitation, displacement and precarity, the ‘casts-as-cultivated-cultures’ may be seen as uncanny spectres of disquietude or vestiges of violence that, even in their states of demise, continue to inhabit the present.
-11F, 3AM. 45 MPH wind.
The Wind is an unbelievable, uncontrollable force that fills your lungs and makes you feel alive.
A sudden surge of terror and sickness swept over him. Uncontrollably, he fell to his knees and he began to shake. Cold hissing sounds rose above of the rush of water and joined with the looming black shadows above to speak of his fears and doubts. A chorus of ghostly hisses whispered “The voice lies. Your death will mean nothing to the world” Frantically he looked about for the source of these voices. His own tremulous voice muttered “I can’t…I can’t do this!”...
Story with Music here
Chapter one here
Jan. 14 - Feb 4th, 2011 at Roq La Rue Gallery. www.roqlarue.com.
About “Honey and Lightening”
“Honey and Lightening” is a show of installation chambers, sculptures of talismanic birds and a series of staged photographs all revolving around examining the mercurial nature of human desire. The substances honey and lightening both have literary, mythical and archetypal references to the occurrence and evolution of desire and it’s fading. I see one as the slow ooze of pleasure and the other as the dangerous, uncontrollable and inexplicably instant occurrence of magnetism between two bodies.
Two installation chambers create full body experiences of these ephemeral phenomena and crystallize them in tangible form as a way to signify the human longing for a perfect stasis of experience – which is impossible as emotion begins to degrade, evolve, fold in upon itself after the initial strike.
The Cherry Tree Root chamber is, in a way, a reverence to my own experience with Colpo di fulmine — “love at first sight” in Italian, which literally translate to “lightning strike”, and a craving to re-experience a place and time that no longer exists. Recently digging a 16 foot deep foundation hole, my husband and I removed 72 tons of dirt from our property to build a studio, exposing deep and gnarled roots that seems like frozen solidified lightening, long forgotten, dug up by us to lay the foundation for the rooms we hope we’ll die in. The root chamber is like entering this underground world hidden from view of long- ago electric ephemeral desires that have now turned into strong and sturdy roots- not as flashy as lightening but quietly enduring and growing. The roots are battered beautiful twisting accumulations of crocheted scraps of fabric I’ve saved for years, old ropes and remnants of past installations, hand-spun hair, rabbit fur and old clothes, all coated in the dirt from below my family’s foundation.
Creating a chamber to recede into is an homage to Jeffry Michell’s 2001 installation “Hanabuki”, the site of our own lightening strike, a catalytic phenomenon that lasted a millisecond. Like life itself beginning with lightening striking the primordial soup, the mythology of celestial fire recognizes its ability to create fast irreversible transformation. Despite the impossibility of it, I made my chamber as a way to revisit and remember the secret place Jeffry made, the fur-lined hut that was a pleasure palace where I fell in love, presided over by little dancing gods spreading the joys of the pleasure in all bodies, a beginning of something that seemed temporary and ill-fated but really turned out to be deep-rooted like an ancient tree.
Sponsored in part by by the City of Seattle Office of Arts and Cultural Affairs CityArtist Grant and 4Culture/King County Lodging Tax Revenue.
Photo : Mark Woods
Jan. 14 - Feb 5th, 2011 at Roq La Rue Gallery. www.roqlarue.com.
About “Honey and Lightening”
“Honey and Lightening” is a show of installation chambers, sculptures of talismanic birds and a series of staged photographs all revolving around examining the mercurial nature of human desire. The substances honey and lightening both have literary, mythical and archetypal references to the occurrence and evolution of desire and it’s fading. I see one as the slow ooze of pleasure and the other as the dangerous, uncontrollable and inexplicably instant occurrence of magnetism between two bodies.
Two installation chambers create full body experiences of these ephemeral phenomena and crystallize them in tangible form as a way to signify the human longing for a perfect stasis of experience – which is impossible as emotion begins to degrade, evolve, fold in upon itself after the initial strike.
The Honey Moon chamber is a 10 foot tall mirrored jewelry box spanning 12 feet, enclosing a giant engorged golden chandelier formation encrusted with tens of thousands of gold-colored trinkets – the cheapest of the trashiest materials but representing the purest element from the bowels of the earth that has induced lust to the point of violence since pre-history. This giant mass of gold, as well as the body of the viewer, is reflected infinitely in 35 mirrored panels that create a simultaneously claustrophobic and expansive encounter that memorializes a temporary event. The mythology of honey, a bodily fluid produced from flowers, has long been associated with the ooze of erotic perfection. An ambrosial month of drinking honey-wine has followed the wedding ceremony since the Pharaohs. But locked up in the folklore of this transitional period is that the delirium ends and the state of bliss is forever sought after.
The Cherry Tree Root chamber is, in a way, a reverence to my own experience with Colpo di fulmine — “love at first sight” in Italian, which literally translate to “lightning strike”, and a craving to re-experience a place and time that no longer exists. Recently digging a 16 foot deep foundation hole, my husband and I removed 72 tons of dirt from our property to build a studio, exposing deep and gnarled roots that seems like frozen solidified lightening, long forgotten, dug up by us to lay the foundation for the rooms we hope we’ll die in. The root chamber is like entering this underground world hidden from view of long- ago electric ephemeral desires that have now turned into strong and sturdy roots- not as flashy as lightening but quietly enduring and growing. The roots are battered beautiful twisting accumulations of crocheted scraps of fabric I’ve saved for years, old ropes and remnants of past installations, hand-spun hair, rabbit fur and old clothes, all coated in the dirt from below my family’s foundation.
Creating a chamber to recede into is an homage to Jeffry Michell’s 2001 installation “Hanabuki”, the site of our own lightening strike, a catalytic phenomenon that lasted a millisecond. Like life itself beginning with lightening striking the primordial soup, the mythology of celestial fire recognizes its ability to create fast irreversible transformation. Despite the impossibility of it, I made my chamber as a way to revisit and remember the secret place Jeffry made, the fur-lined hut that was a pleasure palace where I fell in love, presided over by little dancing gods spreading the joys of the pleasure in all bodies, a beginning of something that seemed temporary and ill-fated but really turned out to be deep-rooted like an ancient tree.
The installation also includes a gathering of talismanic birds made of leather and more than a thousand individually cut and sewn silk and satin feathers, representing my imminent needs but using imagery used by a variety of ancient peoples and cultures — a desire for protection, for a guide, and harbingers of happiness in the form of a raptors. In photographs, close friends and my husband play out roles that tie into the everyday events of their lives, but represented as re-interpreted gods and goddesses such as Hecate, Demeter and the Green Man. The photos speak to themes of cross-roads, the double pull of isolation vs. community, a power buried in the beginnings of motherhood and the visceral erotic pull of the earth, volatile but buried like a dormant volcano.
Sponsored in part by by the City of Seattle Office of Arts and Cultural Affairs CityArtist Grant and 4Culture/King County Lodging Tax Revenue.
The fake news that President Trump talks about? It's very real, it's truly 100% fake -- when it comes from Trump's uncontrollable, dirty big mouth. America's best and greatest source of fake news comes from President Trump himself.
The true fact is: Sweden is sweet, Trump is dumb.
The funniest part is when Trump is advised to buy Ikea kits to build the wall.
14 million hits and counting. Way to go, Sweden!
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