Shame hides quietly...

Like the wallflower at a party, the third wheel spinning between two friends, the associate next to the lead, second place within steps of the winner, there is me behind the camera. What would the lens take in during my days? This fear keeps me squatting in back of the event, the one holding a black frame over my eye during life moments and the very days right before me. I believe the camera would mirror the very ugly I see in myself and the standards I hold yet can't keep.The home undone, the laundry stacks comfy on the couch, kitchen table, and unmade beds. My dirty hair pinned and pulled up. This girl's face, bare flesh over bone, tired eyes, and tees loose over leggings. The bad words, irritable moans, the roll of the eye and the lack of thankfulness in my grumble, grumble, grumble. None of which would ever be seen at church, out to dinner gatherings or hosting under my own roof.

 I break the silence. Time the camera and sit with my boys as I do most days. My inner-ugly collided with breathtaking beauty. My shame shrunk within the beams of smiles. The unending "to do" stood still with the close of a shutter and my mistakes bagged in self condemnation lifted a tiny bit lighter. Against the backdrop of a non-propped, only blush on cheeks, candid memory clicked, I accepted more of me.

Even in the mess there is more than meets the eye. Join me in front of the camera.