Building Self-Confidence 105

I had created a new avatar, a vintage photograph of an anonymous model smiling into a mirror. It was supposed to represent self-confidence. But then I went to my weekly therapy and left owning a few more pieces of me. It doesn't seem right anymore, having a mask. So here is my new one. Me.




It's one of my favourite self-portraits because it shows a me that is both human and ideal. I am in motion, my dark brown curls swinging to half-cover my face. I tried replicating this photograph a hundred times, but there is no replacing the beauty of an individual moment.

I am: smiling.
I am: playful.
I am: young.
I am: curvy.
I am: guarded.
I am: embarrassed.
I am: excited.

I am sitting in a chair that must have been upholstered in the late 80s, staring at the blue carpet, tears streaming down my face, talking about myself.

"I miss it. The family. When I moved it was all gone. All of it."

"And how did that make you feel?"

I frowned. Didn't I say how I felt? Hesitation. "I missed them." What's the right answer here? What is she looking for? "Sad?"

She nodded, but it wasn't enough. "I bet it felt very lonely. I bet you felt very alone."

I faltered, searching the room as though it were a library of my memories. Alone? Yes. Alone? Yes. Still alone? Yes. Each memory, check. Alone. I felt very alone. Breath. Heartbeat. Heartbeat. Breath. Cry.

Still remembering, still feeling, I looked back at her. Her eyes were wet, too, but inside that empathy was a smile. Something in me was letting go. Something in me feels this is right.


Read on the NHS Choices blog.