I'm coining a new psychological term: passport photo induced depression.
No one, and I mean no one, should be subjected to seeing two incredibly close head shots of themselves, that are taken 10 years apart.
I was having a good hair day, had on a cute scarf, I was ready! Passport photo day, let's do this! Then I saw the results from the doorway in the fluorescently lit CVS…I have under-eye bags, the beginnings of what I can only explain as eyelid wrinkles, and an increasingly asymmetrical forehead.
Ten years ago I was the picture of youth! Not a wrinkle, or bag, or non-horizontal eyebrow to be seen! I was an 18 year old leaving her country for the first time! I was the picture of fresh faced, and now I'm the picture of embattled.
Cue the violins! Bring out the tissues! Bring on the big wine glass and the secret chocolates from the fridge vegetable drawer!
I was having a case of passport photo induced depression. (Feel free to spread that around, I'm making it a thing).
But then a friend said something seemingly insignificant, 'uh yeah you look different you were a baby then.'
He's right. I was a baby. So what if through some stress and uncertainty and accidents and awesomeness and genetics I look different than I did before. I've always looked different, because I'm me. Besides my two sisters, I don't resemble anyone else's mixed bag of DNA.
It got me thinking about two baby girls I know who were born with conditions that formed their skulls differently than others. I think about the world that I want them to grow up in.
A world where they will be seen just as I want any other young girl, or old girl for that matter, to be seen: for her intelligence, passion, strength, imagination, ingenuity and zest for life!
So that brings me to this point…Today I didn't understand what was publicized on our Human Resource's update about one of my coworker's finalizing an adoption of three children. The picture accompanying the story seemed to be from the early 1990s, but the adoption was this year. So I did what anyone in my position would do,and asked someone and just created one of my own conspiracy theories.
Why couldn't she post a recent picture, I asked myself. Myself logically answered that they were in the witness protection program, so she wasn't allowed to share current photos. But, then why were they in the witness protection program? Obviously, their father was a mafia boss and he and the mother were taken out by a professional hit. Then to protect the children they were given new identities and sent to foster care where my sweet coworker adopted all three of them and agreed to never share anymore recent photos.
Well, after telling this completely rational story to one of my other coworker's who is good friends with the mother of the witness protection children she told me through fits of laughter that I must tell the mother. The mother howled with laughter at my completely believable story and said, "You have such a grand imagination!" Then after the conversation, she emailed me a more recent picture to prove they're legit members of society. Therefore now I'm pretty sure federal marshals are going to burst through my door at any minute, so I tidied my living room up just in case. Anyway, then I retold the whole story to my boss later and she said, "I'm so lucky to have someone with such a colorful imagination working here."
So that's what I want you to remember from this post today: not that Sarah has an asymmetrical forehead, but that Sarah has a pretty crazy, yet entertaining, imagination. :)
No one, and I mean no one, should be subjected to seeing two incredibly close head shots of themselves, that are taken 10 years apart.
I was having a good hair day, had on a cute scarf, I was ready! Passport photo day, let's do this! Then I saw the results from the doorway in the fluorescently lit CVS…I have under-eye bags, the beginnings of what I can only explain as eyelid wrinkles, and an increasingly asymmetrical forehead.
Ten years ago I was the picture of youth! Not a wrinkle, or bag, or non-horizontal eyebrow to be seen! I was an 18 year old leaving her country for the first time! I was the picture of fresh faced, and now I'm the picture of embattled.
Cue the violins! Bring out the tissues! Bring on the big wine glass and the secret chocolates from the fridge vegetable drawer!
I was having a case of passport photo induced depression. (Feel free to spread that around, I'm making it a thing).
But then a friend said something seemingly insignificant, 'uh yeah you look different you were a baby then.'
He's right. I was a baby. So what if through some stress and uncertainty and accidents and awesomeness and genetics I look different than I did before. I've always looked different, because I'm me. Besides my two sisters, I don't resemble anyone else's mixed bag of DNA.
It got me thinking about two baby girls I know who were born with conditions that formed their skulls differently than others. I think about the world that I want them to grow up in.
A world where they will be seen just as I want any other young girl, or old girl for that matter, to be seen: for her intelligence, passion, strength, imagination, ingenuity and zest for life!
So that brings me to this point…Today I didn't understand what was publicized on our Human Resource's update about one of my coworker's finalizing an adoption of three children. The picture accompanying the story seemed to be from the early 1990s, but the adoption was this year. So I did what anyone in my position would do,
Why couldn't she post a recent picture, I asked myself. Myself logically answered that they were in the witness protection program, so she wasn't allowed to share current photos. But, then why were they in the witness protection program? Obviously, their father was a mafia boss and he and the mother were taken out by a professional hit. Then to protect the children they were given new identities and sent to foster care where my sweet coworker adopted all three of them and agreed to never share anymore recent photos.
Well, after telling this completely rational story to one of my other coworker's who is good friends with the mother of the witness protection children she told me through fits of laughter that I must tell the mother. The mother howled with laughter at my completely believable story and said, "You have such a grand imagination!" Then after the conversation, she emailed me a more recent picture to prove they're legit members of society. Therefore now I'm pretty sure federal marshals are going to burst through my door at any minute, so I tidied my living room up just in case. Anyway, then I retold the whole story to my boss later and she said, "I'm so lucky to have someone with such a colorful imagination working here."
So that's what I want you to remember from this post today: not that Sarah has an asymmetrical forehead, but that Sarah has a pretty crazy, yet entertaining, imagination. :)
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