Perfection in the memory

I was undecided until two minutes ago about sharing this picture.

And I am still not very confident about the whole posting pictures of myself in here, to be honest.

I took it, sure.

But sharing? 

"Who do you think you are?" says my inner voice, "Why should you be so vain?"

You don't know me. And I am not shy, by any means.

I'm probably the least shy person I know.

My job requires me to speak to large groups of people, every day.

So, it is not about attention.

And it is not about personality or feeling of self-worth.

As I wrote in another post, I might be still fighting with my grandma's indoctrination about not being boastful, but I am learning to openly celebrate my successes and who I am. Nevertheless, I am still truly uncomfortable sharing pictures of myself, even among people who meet me in the real life, who know objectively how I look, no filters or good angles.

And I think it's about flaws.

Recorded, immutable, documented flaws.

It's about having the perfect shot, the perfect light, the perfect fabric fold, the perfect hair, the perfect ALL.

If not, why I want to frame this? If not, why people should care to see an imperfect picture of me?

I'm not trying to be falsely modest.

I'm genuinely trying to explain why, to understand why I feel so uneasy.

And I'm not very sure, after all. I'm searching for a reason, and it can be that.

Perfection in the memory.

I don't know really.

However, I see your pictures and you are all so beautiful, and interesting, and your photos really communicate me your joy, or your passions, or your strength.

Why I cannot see myself with the same eyes?

Maybe, I don't always need to have a Vogue-worthy picture before allowing myself to share the happiness I feel in wearing a geeky, powerful outfit, that brings me so much delight, right?

[The wonderful activewear, reason of this completely unnecessary rant, is by HerUniverse]