beautifully different, i guess?
December 8, 2010 § Leave a comment
Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.
oy. #reverb10, you cut so deep! when i told my husband what the prompt was and said “what do i do that lights people up??” he said “well, when someone cuts you off when you’re driving, you get pretty pissed off, maybe that lights them up?” gee, thanks hunny.
the hardest thing about these prompts is that i have to write about myself. i hate writing about myself. and more than that, i am terrible at writing about what is good about me. it just feels…weird.
i’d like to think my eye makes me different. my ability to grab intense moments of love and happiness and life and trap them in an image. the best compliment i can receive is that a picture i’ve taken of someone, of their child, of them with their spouse, elicits an emotional reaction. this beautiful woman is one of my best friends, and she said that when she saw these photos she actually cried a little. the girls, now 3 months old, are big and chubby and cuter than you could imagine. and already, she lamented, it was hard to remember what that first week was like, how small they were, how she’d stroke their smooth newborn hair with her fingers while they nursed, together. i hope my passion for what i do and for learning my craft is infectious, and makes others want to discover their own passions. maybe a hobby that’s lain dormant for years, that’s nagged you, to see someone else follow it, to dig it up and dust it off, i hope it makes you want to do it too. to see where it takes you, to see how amazing doing what you love can be.
but the things that make me me, that are different and weird, came from somewhere. i love my freckles, not because of how they look, but because my mother gave them to me. i can remember as a kid sometimes just running my hand over her arm. commenting on how cool it was that her entire arm is dappled with freckles. i can see her copper bracelet, two toned twisting, on her wrist. the colors all complimenting each other. i love that i look better with short hair, because so does she, and maybe that means i have the same beautifully shaped face that she does. i love that we both have big teeth. i love that we both have the same wry sarcastic sense of humor and a love of writing and reading. these things on their own aren’t particularly glamorous, after all, did i ever think i’d say i like my big teeth? but it’s all a part of my story, a part of her story.
i love my big ears, not because i get made fun of them (seriously, most of my childhood i was teased and called dumbo. in fact on a recent visit to my sister in law in DC, i was stopped by a little boy, couldn’t have been older than 9 or 10, who said “wow! your ears are crazy big!” thanks kid) but because they came from my dad. i love that my dad once told me my overbite was beautiful, and that he was glad my orthodontics hadn’t completely remedied it. something i spent so much of my life hating someone else thinks is beautiful. i love that i love jazz because my dad brought it into my life. i love that i’m a loud obnoxious sports fan because i grew up with my dad yelling at the TV in the library with 12 foot ceilings. the only time my sort of small dad sounded big and booming. i love that i love photography, because it came from my dad. i love looking at his old photos and seeing his eye and his talent knowing i get to have some of it.
it’s hard for me say, without all the disclaimers, that i truly love all these things about me. or that i love the fact that i’m terribly emotional, or that i often pour myself 215% into every relationship i have and don’t usually get it back. that i suffer from people pleasing syndrome and often forget to take care of myself and also feel like i’m not taking care of everyone else adequately enough. i’m definitely weird. have a weird sense of humor that only my closest friends understand. i’m awkward and play on it most of the time. i say “so um” like, 100 times a conversation when i start to feel weird, or like there’s a lull and i have nothing to say. i’m terribly insecure and have hard time thinking of myself, or anything that i contribute to anything as being beautiful. maybe that will get better with age…maybe. but, i’m the only me there is (really, there are no other isabel furie’s on facebook! and facebook means the world, right??) and hopefully being around me makes some people feel good. god knows i’m lucky enough to know many people who light me up.