Judgements pollute perfect waters.
As a photographer, I have a front-row seat to people’s self-perceptions, and too often it breaks my heart to witness how much we reject ourselves—all comparison, no compassion.
Life is too short to live in a cage of our own creation.
So, can we love it all?
Can we honour ourselves and release the inner critic bullsh*t?
Here is one brave woman’s journey towards that.
Concept and words by Alessandra Mauri.
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I was having a hard time accepting myself.
Everything in the mirror was a painful reminder of change.
Ageing, fatigue, and lack of self-care.
Understanding the healing power of creativity and of confronting my edges, the idea was to create a raw shot of my reflection, outlining all my “imperfections” with lipstick on the mirror.
It was harder than I thought.
I couldn’t quite get the angle right.
After unsuccessfully drawing and redrawing shapes and lines that didn't align with the flaws of my face, frustration welled up.. and so did the tears.
The process was deep, painful even.
It was a lot of staring at my own face—all those imperfections!
It made me sad how quickly, and how many, I was able to spot:
“Look at those bags under my eyes.”
“Is that a cold sore? And those pimples?”
“My skin is breaking out again, what’s happening?”
“God, I look so f%&$* tired!”
WTF!
When did I become so judgmental towards myself?
And the truth is...
Some days, there's a constant chorus of bitchy voices inside my head, commentating and reporting on every imperfection. In that moment, they were loud—extra loud.
Pete helped—a lot.
He invited me to simply “stay with her.”
It was very confronting.
Being witnessed in such vulnerability.
Yet, alone with my inner voices.
Deep breaths of discomfort followed.
Until, with tears rolling down my face…
I saw her.
Waves of love and compassion began to mix with the sadness—for all the times I exclusively focused on flaws.
More deep breaths.
Choosing to stay in the process, staring at the judgements, I noticed (to my surprise) that I stopped hearing the negative voices.
It’s not like I couldn’t see all the things I was feeling insecure about, but now, I wasn’t picking on them.
A loving smile appeared for a fleeting moment.
Gentle respite from the noise within.
More breaths.
Then arrived a different voice, whispering curiously.