In an effort to be ahead for the holidays, my roommates and I decided to hire one of my best friends to take our pictures. We dressed up, I put on mascara and lipstick for the first time in months, and we set off to American Fork Canyon.
While the nature around us was breathtaking, the day was also rapidly approaching sun down, so we hurried through the picture taking as fast as we could, hoping to avoid freezing to death.
A few days later, the pictures were ready for us to see. However, I had no idea how difficult it would be to look at myself . . . Look into my eyes and see pain that no one else was aware of. Yes, I was smiling outwardly, yet inwardly? Happiness was far from my heart.
I don’t think I struggle with chronic depression. At the same time, I know that my life has been nothing but difficult and dark for a long time. I have made choices I never believed I’d have to make. I’ve survived different kinds of abuse, some mild, some so severe it’s left me in darkness every time I close my eyes.
And yet as I analyzed these photographs, as I looked into my eyes, not only did I see that darkness, but I didn’t believe that there was any happiness to be seen. Everyone thought my picture was beautiful. But I ?
I saw nothing. Nothing of worth. Nothing of beauty.
Now, several weeks later, I don’t know if I feel much different. I don’t feel much light or happiness. But what I do know is that I want to . I want to find happiness. I want to not only see it reflected in my eyes, but I want to feel it in my heart.
My picture causes me to think of one word. Not a thousand words, one word : truth. My picture causes me to reflect on questions that tug at my feelings... What was I truly feeling in that moment? What is the truth about what was going on? What truth does God want me to realize and embrace as I look at my freckled, scar worn and red patched face ?
Perhaps, then, pictures aren’t meant to be worth a thousand words. At least not mine. Perhaps just one word will suffice. . .
