I don’t usually get real deep or heavy here on my blog.  It’s not because I don’t have opinions on things, it’s just that I live a pretty vanilla life.  I am easy going and happy.  I mind my manners and try not to offend or judge others (too much).  My kids are not more special or more obnoxious than anyone else’s (usually).  I generally just be-bop my way through life scattering sugar and rainbows as I go (you know it’s true).

But deep down, I’m not real happy with myself.  I’ve always been self conscious and have battled my weight for most of my life.  I don’t necessarily dwell on it or cry about it…much.  Instead I make jokes about myself and try to act like I don’t really care.  I try to act confident and comfortable in my skin, even when I’m starving to death because I only had a chocolate protein shake for breakfast that morning.

Occasionally, in my Stumbles, I come across really fabulous websites.  Blogs about cooking or baking.  Sites that are so funny I snort, and sometimes websites that make me think.  Today, I came across a photographer’s portfolio website.  He had some stunning images and I found myself looking through all of his galleries. Until I came across it.  A photograph that made me think.  It made me wonder out loud, “what the hell is that girl thinking?”  I was not taken by the beauty of the image, instead I found myself trying to dig into the model’s head and figure out where she found the gumption, the balls and the self-esteem to pose like that.

(after the jump…it is not safe for work.  This is your warning)

That there my friends is a big beautiful woman…with a ginormous dose of amazing self esteem!  On the photographer’s website, he show’s some “behind the scenes” candid shots.  In those candid shots it shows the making of this photograph.  Two people with powerful fans and lights posing this woman so that her fat rolls and skin move just right to make for a dramatic photo.

Oh NO you don’t! Thankyouverymuch.

There will never be posing of my fat rolls for the sake of art (or anything else).  Not now, not ever!

But inside, deep down, I’m envious of this woman.  Who is she?  Where does she get her confidence?  She must have gotten mine and her’s all at once.  I want to be like her.  I want to be proud of myself and confident…rolls and all.  I want to be photographed nude and have someone think, “wow, she’s beautiful!” rather than quickly clicking away in horror.

I didn’t click away from this photo in horror.  I only stared and wondered.

It certainly isn’t a flattering photo.  I don’t think it’s supposed to be.  I mean, I spend a lot of time doing my make up just so, fixing my hair, standing in the right position…all so I can look half way decent for a picture.    There are not many candid shots of me, all of them are perfectly planned so that I can look my best.

Why does this woman not concerned about looking her best?

I know.  It is supposed to be “art” and all that nonsense.

Where does she get her confidence?  How is she so comfortable with herself that she doesn’t mind looking less than her best?

Or, maybe she thinks she looks beautiful just like that.

That is probably where the difference lies between her and I.  She knows she is beautiful, even with unflattering fans blowing her rolls.  I don’t feel beautiful even with perfectly applied makeup and posing for a photo that I know will eventually be photoshopped.