I posted this picture after realizing that it was OK for me to show my eye in my selfie.
It got me to thinking about why I was so shy to post it. It got me to wondering what it was that brought the shame back. We all know I’m proud of my eye, we all know I identify as the feminist incarnation of Odin.
And what I realized was that it came back to the bullying.
I’m 28, it’s years later, and the insults from my childhood still ring in my ears when I think about being pretty.
So, no, Jezebel. My selfie is not a cry for help.
My selfie is a fucking battle cry.
My selfie says that I am no longer ashamed. I got the help I needed. I fixed it.
I no longer think about the boy who would make the cross and run away from me when I approached him on the playground. I no longer think about the people who shuffle their children to the side when they see me. I no longer consider the children who ask me if I’m an evil witch. I no longer consider that they think I’m posessed. That I’m evil. That I’m a demon.
The opthalmologist who told me I would be prettier with matching eyes? Fuck him. I do not need his approval. I left his office in tears, but I am stronger now.
My selfie is not asking you to validate me. My selfie is about showing myself to the world without shame, and about celebrating that I am free of the barbs which have been flung at me. You want to put me down?
I am a disabled feminist. Hear me roar.