It starts before we’re old enough to know what’s happening – the seeds of negative self image are sown long before a woman reaches adolescence. They take root and burrow into the core of our being, gnawing away at us every chance they get. But eventually we reach adulthood and are finally able to take a few steps back and see ourselves for what we are. There comes a time in our lives when we finally see more than just the reflection offered in a mirror – we see the skills we have, the knowledge in the lines of our faces, the laughter in our eyes. We remind ourselves of all that we’ve overcome and accomplished, our successes and triumphs. A list grows long with all the things that make us … remarkably, wonderfully, exactly, perfectly…. us. Yet the gnawing is still there; its voice is audible and clear. Despite...
Search Results for: beauty collective
relentlessly beautiful | on self love and redefining beauty
I speak a lot about beauty; on this blog, on Instagram, in real life. A few years ago I launched a portrait project aimed at changing the way we see ourselves – and our flaws – and helping us to re-examine our own definitions of beauty. I carry the principles of the Beauty Collective with me daily and often talk about them with women during – or after – photo shoots. And yet. AND YET. Here I am, the lifter-upper-of others, the champion for self worth and self love, struggling with who I think I am based on what I look like. Not daily, but often enough. I am a walking contradiction. While I’m relentlessly championing others and helping to propel women to a place of acceptance – a place where they can honor their imperfections and put away their insecurities – I am here, quietly putting way too much value on my exterior....
what i have to say | my fitness journey
Four months ago I stood in front of my mirror and sobbed. Shoulder bobbing, chest heaving, nose running, cried. I couldn’t stand my reflection, the girl I had let myself become. My clothes didn’t fit, I didn’t feel good, and I had spent the better part of a year convincing myself that I was happy with how I looked. That I didn’t care if I was carrying around 5 extra pounds (okay ten) because my body had done amazing things (hello, wombfruits!) and I would carry those scars with pride. Stretch marks. Sagging skin. A jiggly midsection. Big thighs. I told myself those things were beautiful. I screamed it to myself and forced myself to believe it. I threw the words “self-acceptance” and “love” at myself like a knife, over and over again until it finally hit the mark. Some days the knife-throwing didn’t work. Some days, no matter how...
a cacophony of minutia: the two most darling girls since ever
I’m not really busy right now – and I’m okay with that actually. In a few weeks I’ll be busy again, and preparing for an insane summer wedding season. So right now, in the moments when I’m not at the cube farm or watching Gossip Girl, I find myself spending every last moment with my two darling girls; Playing, adventuring, laughing, tickling, living. The things I miss when I’m working – which I tend to do all. the. time. Last night, as I was falling asleep I realized I don’t take any photographs of my life. The moments I live. Every single day. And I remembered a conversation that occurred a couple of years ago – when someone asked if I would consider taking photos professionally. “I don’t want it to be work,” I said. “I don’t want to need a break-and work tends to do that to you-it takes...
