A Wren Says

I picked up the old picture of a then seven-year-old me. “Wow, I was such a cute kid.” It was a revelation, rather than a brag.

Around the age the photo was taken, I was led to believe that my features were, well unfortunate. For years after, I was self-conscious, growing more and more uncomfortable with my appearance with each advancing year. The wisdom of adulthood only deepened my self-awareness. I became adept at ducking from cameras, fearful of having that memory of me captured forever. But even with those two large front teeth on view, the childhood photo revealed to me what I couldn’t see then.  I had let my perception of myself held me back for far too long. Only now could I see how wrong I’d been. How wrong am I now?

When I’m 80, and I hope to make to and past that age, how will I look back on me now? Will I scroll or flip through old photographs and come to a similar revelation? Will I feel foolish for feeling so unsightly, for desiring so much to be hidden? Will I be grateful to see the old me frozen in time and have the chance to reflect on times gone by? Or, hopefully, will I have already grown to accept and embrace myself as I am, already seeing the beauty in the moment now, capturing memories freely and unafraid?