My Exposure Therapy

When it comes to shyness, I have slowly outgrown my timid, introverted nature. All except for one specific type of shyness. And this certain type of shyness has not only failed to diminish, but has grown to overtake my life for more than just a few days, months or years. As I have grown older, I have developed an increasing, dreadful fear of the camera. I avoid the camera at all costs, always offering to be the picture taker rather than being the one in the pictures. Always deleting pictures that are taken of me so that they can’t be seen by me or the world. And begging that anytime a picture happens to be taken of me, it is never shared, never shown to the world, never posted into the realm of social media. I have an intense fear of the camera. But with smartphones always at our fingertips, the camera is always flashing, and the opportunities for pictures are never-ending, the possibility of being captured in a photo more real than ever. Pictures are constantly being taken for social media, because our world has somehow come to believe that if we don’t post about it, it didn’t actually happen. And so click after click after click, picture after picture, we always seem to be in a situation that involves a picture. And there is only so much hiding and avoiding I can do without wearing myself out and completely preventing myself from living the life I want to live. Most people aren’t a huge fan of being the victim of a flashing camera, especially with the growing presence of social media and knowing that these pictures could be shared with hundreds, even thousands of people on such a social platform. We are all so hyper focused on the opinion of others and how others perceive us that we are too afraid to even show ourselves to the world in fear that we will be immediately judged. And not in a good way. But my fear extends a little bit farther than most camera shyness. I have spent hours crying over a photo that I couldn’t stand, a photo that I perceived as ugly and disgusting and unworthy of being seen. I have scrutinized over pictures for more hours, picking out each and every flaw I can find, picking out more and more as I continue to inspect myself, perceiving the picture as uglier and uglier with each passing minute. I have missed out on family picture opportunities, friend photoshoots, and the capturing of some pretty amazing moments because I have been too afraid to face the ugliness and fatness and disgustingness that is me and can’t bear to have the world seeing that captured ugliness. Because my mindset is, why even be in a photo in the first place if I never, ever want it to be seen? I have scrolled through social media, subjecting myself to everyone else’s photos, feeding into my belief that everyone else is prettier and skinnier than me and that clearly pictures of me can’t even compete with them. I have relapsed because of pictures. Picking out enough flaws and enough hatred of myself that I couldn’t stand to keep my body the same anymore. Social media has played a significant role in the development of my severe camera shyness. Because social media is a platform where everyone puts their best pictures forward, often times full of layers on layers of filters, countless edits, and chosen out of thousands of other pictures that were taken of the same moment, only choosing the one that looks perfect. And so as we scroll through the endless world of Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, and so on, we feel worse and worse about ourselves as our comparing brains are activated and we begin to perceive every person we see as prettier, skinnier, and better than we could ever possibly be. And I have let this comparison paralyze me. Reaching much deeper than the superficial, fleeting thoughts that most people have when scrolling through the land of social media. I have let these comparisons paralyze me in fear that I could never add up to the perfection already present on social media, that I am far too imperfect and unpresentable to be seen by the world. So for years, I hid myself from the camera, rarely being the subject of a photo, unless absolutely necessary, because I believed the world didn’t deserve to be subject to the ugliness and fatness and disgustingness that made up me. My severe camera shyness is largely attributed to the eating disorder and the anxiety that also live within my mind. Because the eating disorder and anxiety only allow me to see the negativity in myself, painting a false picture that it has chosen to manipulate to hurt me, and drowning my brain in countless insults and hatred for the body that I live in. And because I have chosen, for years, to believe the eating disorder, I have allowed it to convince me that I am not worthy of being the subject of pictures, that my body is far too flawed to be shared with the world. And because I have chosen, for years, to believe my anxiety, I have allowed it to paralyze me in fear that my body is unworthy, my mind is unworthy, I am unworthy, and therefore, I must never be the subject of a picture that would only magnify my unworthiness. I became trapped under the wrath of two crippling mental illnesses, and my severe camera shyness was born as a result. My camera shyness has gotten out of hand. My camera shyness has become more than a serious issue, preventing me from truly living the life in front of me. And until recently, I believed that my camera shyness has become a chronic condition. But I don’t like the word chronic. Because chronic implies that there is no fix. There is no cure. That the condition will last for the rest of my life, most likely getting worse with the passing of time. But just because my severe anxiety regarding pictures has been a hardship in my life for more than just a few days, months, or years, my anxiety has the possibility of going away, of being cured, of getting better and better with each picture I take, each picture I allow myself to be in, each picture I choose to like. So I have begun my own treatment, my own exposure therapy (lol see what I did there?). I am opening up the exposure on my camera, and I am allowing myself to be exposed to the world. Because the only way to fix camera shyness is to face your fears and jump into pictures instead of hiding from them. To take more pictures of yourself and consciously choose to pick out the positives of the pictures you have taken instead of the negatives. And to not only take these pictures, but share them with friends and family and on social media, forcing yourself to become comfortable with being seen, to be okay with believing that you are worthy of being seen alongside the countless other pictures in the world of social media. Pictures capture the priceless moments and memories of our lives, preserving these memories, giving us a snapshot back in time. Pictures connect us, bond us, unite us. Pictures reflect the happiness, enjoyment, and love of a moment, reminding us how much our moments mean to our lives, how important it is to live in the moment, savoring every moment. Pictures are worth a thousand words. Maybe even more. So clearly, pictures hold a lot of power, a lot of significance, a lot of meaning. So if pictures have the capability of preserving the moments of our lives that we so desperately wish to hold on to, the capability of reflecting the happiness and joy and love of our lives, then why am I so desperately afraid to be in the capture of the lens? As I have asked myself this question recently, I have realized that the more I avoid pictures, the more I avoid my life and the world around me. As everyone around me is enjoying in the act of living, capturing the moment, and choosing to focus on their opinion of themselves over the opinion of others, I am holding myself back as I hide from my life, failing to capture the moments, and mistakenly choosing to value the fear that others are viewing me in disgust rather than embracing my own body acceptance and positivity. My camera shyness reflects my tendency to shy away from my life, to shy away from putting myself in situations where I am seen, from being noticed by the world around me. And this tendency is a major disservice to the life that I could potentially be living. Because by hiding in my own insecurity, I fail to allow Shell to create the impact in this world that she is capable of creating. How I am ever supposed to become a nurse, a speaker, an advocate, an author, and whatever else Shell has the potential of becoming if I am too afraid to even be seen? As soon as I allow myself to be comfortable with being seen, noticed, and admired, I will allow myself to be free to create the lasting impact in this world I so desperately wish to create. And so the best way to begin my journey towards being seen is to expose myself to exposure. And I have begun my exposure therapy by choosing to allow my parents, friends, and coworkers to take pictures of me. And by choosing to keep those pictures instead of deleting them. And by focusing on the positives of the picture and of my body rather than the perceived negatives. And by not just keeping these pictures in the hiddenness of my phone, but by sharing them with the world, by gathering up the courage to post them and share them on social media, no matter how much of a challenge it may be. And because I have lived my life in fear of the camera, in constant hiding from its lens, this challenge has proven to be extremely trying and exhausting and painful. I hand the phone to my mom or a friend or a coworker, my hands shaking as I ask them to take the picture of me. My stomach ties in a million knots as I smile for the camera, as I anticipate the picture I am about to see of me. And then my eating disorder fights with my healthy mind as my healthy mind attempts to notice the things I like about the picture but my eating disorder still screams through with insults and hatred and disgust. And I have spent much more time than I would like to admit going through each and every photo that has been taking, struggling to pick the one I like and want to share with the world, afraid that each one isn’t worthy of being seen by anyone else, afraid that each one will bring negative judgement towards my body. The longer I stare at the pictures, the more I seem to dislike them, the more the eating disorder seems to come through and seem more and more believable. And unfortunately, this process has resulted in tears, with me becoming overwhelmed with the challenge on multiple occasions, with the screaming voice of the eating disorder who swears that these pictures will only bring me down and portray my ugliness to the world. But, as always, change and recovery are uncomfortable, and so I choose to push through the pain rather than back away. I am not a quitter, and I will not back down from this challenge. So I continue to seek out more and more opportunities to become comfortable with the camera, pushing myself to ask my mom, my family, and my friends to take pictures of and with me, to capture the moment, to make sure I don’t let any moments pass me by without truly living in them and having pictures to remember them with. And as I continue to expose myself to the exposure, I have noticed that the camera might not be as scary as I think. And to my surprise, there may actually be pictures that I am happy with, pictures that I like and want to post. I never, ever thought that I would get to a place where I could take a picture, look at it and at first glance like it, and then proceed to want to post it on social media. This is a huge step forward for me in my recovery and in my life. I am finally letting Shell be seen in this world. And Shell is coming out of her shell, ready to be seen by this world and make as significant of an impact in this world as she possibly can. My exposure therapy has also taught me important lessons on how to cope with pictures and body image and being comfortable with having my presence be known in this world. I have learned that the only way to be happy with a picture is to allow my first glance, my first impression of the picture, to be the impression that I hold onto. And after that first glance, I must control my temptation to scrutinize and analyze it to see what flaws I can pick out. I must take a break from the picture and only come back when I am sure that I am in a place to enjoy it rather than target it. And I must only take a few pictures at a time, because the more pictures I take of a certain moment, the more I compare between photos and the more I analyze, obsess, and scrutinize between the photos, feeding into my obsession rather than helping me practice the art of acceptance and self love. And when I decide to post a photo, I must choose the photo within a mere minute, because any time more than that feeds the eating disorder’s voice, who has a very powerful voice in convincing me that I am making the wrong decision to share my presence with the world. It is a scary step to change, to let go of my camera shyness. But it is a step that will open my life to much more freedom, self compassion, self love, and confidence. It is a step that will let Shell out of her shell. Shell deserves to be seen in this world. Shell deserves to be loved by others and loved by herself. Shell deserves to be captured in the lens of the camera, to be captured in memories, to live in the moment and remember the moment. Shell deserves to go from camera shy to camera fly.