Insecurities Note

Elbows collide with ribs and shoulders press into forearms as they all shuffle to fit into the photo, heels crushing toes and arms stretching out to hold the camera as far away as possible. Once you manage to get in the frame and place your arm around your friend's waist, pulling yourself even farther into the picture, the countdown begins just as your mental checklist does.

“10…9…” Stomach sucked in? Check. 

“8…7…” Shoulders back? Check. 

“6…5…” Chest out? Check. 

“4…3…” Smiling with your mouth closed? Check. 

“2…1…” Head angled upwards to avoid a double chin?       Check. 

“0! I’m taking the photo now!” 

With a simple click, you feel your body become consumed with anxiety and desperation. Please look okay, please look good, you desperately plead in your head, eyes closed shut out of the fear of disappointment. Apparently, everyone is thinking the same thing because all of a sudden what feels like millions of cries erupt and fill the air. “Can I see?” “Do I look okay?” “Ew! Why do I look like that?” “Can we please retake it?” “Oh my gosh, delete that!” “Wait, don’t delete it, I like it!” Looking around, you see girls clamoring to fit around the phone, eyes of disdain judging their bodies and faces before someone else’s can. 

Insecurities come alive and walk among you at moments like these, baring crooked teeth and brandishing long, gnarled fingers with cracked claw-like nails. They stomp around on the wrinkled gray legs of an elephant with feet so long and pointed even clown shoes wouldn’t be able to conceal them. You see them, these insecurities. You watch them take hold of the shoulders of your friends and whisper in their ears as they look down at the photo, enhancing their hyper-critical perspectives. You find yourself wondering when these insecurities became so attached to yourself and your friends. What happened to the younger you, the girl who didn't care how her hair looked when she first woke up and thought pairing knee-high socks and a jean jacket was the most revolutionary discovery in the fashion industry? 

Your thoughts are disrupted as you feel a long sharp finger slowly trace along your spine and over your shoulders, sending chills down your back and into your heart. Looking over, you see your own insecurity has arrived, looming above you with long stick-like legs and knees that look like knots in a tree. A slight gust echos through its empty rib cage, and when it looks down at you and grins with its broken, yellow teeth, its eyes reflect no emotion or affection, just two empty black holes swirling in its skull. Reaching out a long, twisted arm, it guides you back over to the photo, urging you to look at it once more. Squeezing your eyes shut again, you count down, bracing yourself for what is before you. 3…2…1…Go.