I hate having my picture taken.
I cringe when I hear a photographer say, “Okay, now SMILE!” Of course, that cringing expression always makes for a lovely shot.
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. But even if I’m not alone in how I feel about having my photo taken, the fact is that when you’re sitting there on some uncomfortable stool with the evil, unblinking black eye of a camera focused on you, you are alone. Well, except for the photographer.
But let’s face it, that’s not always a comfort.
“Turn your head a little. No, the other way! Farther. No, too far! Let me do it.”
Oh, yeah – nothing puts me in the right frame of mind to smile attractively like being frozen in an unnatural position after having some stranger’s hands all over my face.
It’s not the photographers’ fault, though, even if I would like to blame it all on them. And believe me, I would.
No, the fact is as plain as the cringe on my face: I’m just not good at being photographed.
It hasn’t always been this way.
Once, my mother entered a photo she took of me in a “Pretty Baby Contest.”
My picture won a very prestigious award: a free pizza. It was a proud moment for my family. Click here to read the rest of the story.