Why I posted a naked photo of myself on my Instagram
I don't usually post naked selfies while eating banana & cereal, but this was very deliberate and conscious
A week ago I spent two hours photographing myself and being photographed by Beth Flynn. She spoke to us for a while, about her process and thoughts on our relationships with ourselves and our image, particularly as women.
I have a mixed relationship with my own body and I’ve written about it more recently. I’m experiencing my physicality differently now, in my mid-forties, compared to earlier in life. I’ve never really felt very connected to myself.
A few days later I shared a picture of my face — or half of it — talking about the light in the gallery, the freckles I’d forgotten I owned, and the raw and mundane nature of some of the pictures I’d taken of myself since. A friend who had been at the small workshop with me commented: “Love that, yes to more real, raw, mundane and messy ❤️” which probably wasn’t intended as a challenge but, well I took it as one, in a good way.
And so, the next day, I revisited the most raw, mundane and messy image I’d captured of myself. Me getting ready to climb a mountain on Sunday morning, running late, naked, eating cereal and banana. Standing next to my stack of half-read books, looking into my grubby mirror, not smiling. I always smile. I wasn’t unhappy I was simply ‘off duty’. The smile is the ‘customer service’ me, the ‘how can I help you?’ version of myself. Not smiling AND naked. That feels like a lot. And at the same time, it’s nothing, it’s normal, it’s the most normal version of me. Regular daily life. So I thought ‘get over yourself’ and shared it.
I expected to feel anxious as I pressed the button to publish the photo. Of course I’d covered over my nipples very generously as I didn’t actually want to get banned (although why nipples are a problem whatsoever is a whole other conversation well worth having). And my cereal bowl was covering most of the other bits that could land me in some sort of trouble. I was ready for the fight if anyone demanded I remove it. But that wasn’t the focus. The focus was ‘here I am’, ‘this is me’. Real, not professionally shot or lit, no makeup and so on. no big deal and yet…
The photo received the most engagement I’d ever had. Comment after comment from friends, clients and followers, including one or two I’ve never met or met briefly many years ago. On a good day I tend to get about 20 or so ‘likes’ for my posts. That day I received 127. Which is not a measure that feels particularly important but it does mean something about the photo moved people. And I felt like I’d stepped into a new realm. Not a realm of posting naked photos all the time, but stepping through a portal to actual vulnerability and authenticity instead of dancing around it.
The world keeps spinning, my subsequent posts got the pathetic levels of engagement I’ve come to expect (ha!) and everyone carries on with their lives. However, for me, thanks to Beth’s workshop and some new-found mid-life freedom, my relationship with my image, my body and my Instagram has changed forever. For the better.
