Face value

Have you ever wondered why I post so many pictures of myself on this blog?

The short answer is self-healing... but I'm not exactly renown for short answers, so here's the long one...

After being ashamed of myself for way too long, this is a cathartic approach to restoring my self esteem. I absolutely HATED having my photo taken after I gained weight a decade ago. They were far from flattering and to be perfectly frank - I appeared fat and terribly ugly.

During our trip around the world five years ago, I mastered the art of self portraiture - thanks to my husband who is a superstar at it. Over time, I cultivated a relationship between me and the lens and have consequently captured what I refer to as 'the essence of my spirit'.

While this may sound a bit new age and purple crushed-velvety, this is something I have been known for in the portraiture of others. I have often been praised for my photography of people and (wait for it) capturing the essence of their spirit. I have been told on more than one occasion "Oh my God Grace, you can make ugly people look beautiful" (seriously).

The truth is, I don't make people look beautiful... I see people as beautiful.

Through self-portraiture I have been able to see and acknowledge my own beauty despite how other people see me in their photographs. This has been hard and, let's face it, WEIRD. But it has been a necessary step in embracing myself and restoring my self esteem and confidence.

My self portraits are primarily a reminder that I am worthy (I should also add that they are also practical as I'm always in my own company and don't need to seek my permission). Someone with fledgling self esteem, such as your's truly, needs to be reminded of this regularly (the bit about being worthy, not about self portraiture being practical).

The act of me taking a self portrait that I deem worthy and, dare I say, beautiful enough to post on the world wide web is an enormous breakthrough for me. This is what I call 'face value' and for that, I make no apologies. While it may appear narcissistic, I can assure you that it is therapeutic.

Until tomorrow, make no apologies for improving your self worth - whatever it takes.

Grace xx

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He loves me... he loves me not...

You may recognise the shoes in this photo from a previous post titled 'Happy Little Camper' however I can assure you that what I'm about to write is not of my shoe addiction. Instead, I'm going to explore my addiction to feeling unloved in response to mishaps.

Earlier today Patrick and I got caught up in our work and consequently skipped lunch. We were both starving as we were preparing to head out for an appointment, when Patrick raided the fridge in search for some 'fast' food (rare in our household).

He claimed one of my favourite smallgoods produced in the Barossa Valley that we affectionately call a 'bum burner'. This tasty savoury delight is made with natural wood smoke in the authentic German tradition and is in a word, delicious.

I'd be lucky to have had half a dozen bum burners in the last five years, so yesterday I decided to purchase two tasty treats - one for the road trip and one for when we returned home, which did just before midnight last night.

Before I had a chance to ask for a bite, Patrick had eaten the entire thing (it's only about five-bites worth). Thinking that he was playing a joke I said "Come on, I know you wouldn't do that - pass it over here," to which he replied, "I am not joking. I was so hungry I ate it all." Then after a small pause he said, "That was so selfish of me".

It was at that point that a javelin went straight into my heart and I became bombarded by the all too familiar "He doesn't love me" inner dialogue. I was so upset that I instantly felt like drowning myself in a bottle of wine, gorging myself on ten KFC hot wings followed by a cheeseburger, several chocolate bars and three ice creams (one of them would have been a Magnum) all while smoking an entire packet of cigarettes (I still have some from a carton I purchased duty free in Hong Kong in 2007 for such occasions).

As these feelings of rage, rejection and questioning whether being married to Patrick after such an act would be possible, I bit my tongue (metaphorically). I knew something was going on beneath the surface that was causing all these toxic emotions. Feeling like United States of Tara, I kept switching from observer to being in the midst of fury and dejection.

Even now as I type I feel myself switching through opposing emotions. One minute I am a calm, insightful wise woman and the next - a crazed axe murderer (lucky for Pat, we don't have an axe... I wonder if dental floss can do any damage?).

I may not have had such a strong reaction had it been the last apple Patrick took, as we can easily trot to the local shops and buy more... but we are talking about the last BUM BURNER, which we've not had in this particular household since moving here four years ago - nor is it so easy to replace (an 8-hour drive, or $100 return flight to get another one).

Had this not happened today, I may not have been alerted as to how strongly I react when my 'unloved' feelings are triggered. Since starting Project Grace 2010 200 posts ago (yessirree, you read correctly - yesterday marked my 200th post), I found that the number of these episodes have markedly reduced. So much so, that today really took me by surprise.

As soon as the trigger goes off I experience a sequence of feelings starting with sadness and loneliness, followed by rage and fury that rises in my belly. I then have an overwhelming urge to abuse myself with food, alcohol and cigarettes. The yearning is strong, the desire is magnetic.

Is this longing for intoxication born out of the need to numb the pain, say 'f#ck you' to the world or to slowly kill myself? At this stage I don't know, though my guess is that it is probably a combination of all three.

For many years I did not have the strength, will power or self love to resist. Today I did.

I still don't know why I translated Patrick's self-confessed act of selfishness to mean that he doesn't love me, therefore my addiction to feeling unloved in response to mishaps continues to remain a mystery. I will, however, keep a close eye on this addiction over coming months.

In the meantime I'm grateful for the insight I have gained- though there are moments when I'd like to be vengeful and get my hands on another bum burner, tie Patrick to a chair and make him watch me eat it one teeny bite at a time. Ah, the power of imagination - I feel better already.

Until tomorrow, be sure to dig deeper if your reactions are bigger than what you're reacting to.

Grace xx

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Encore what?

It appears that yesterday's post struck a chord with some of you, and for that I am delighted.

I received a number of encouraging responses, which did wonders for my mojo.

Then, unexpectedly, my confidence took a dive after having a head on collision with the following words, "I enjoy all of your posts ... however this is by far the best one yet."

One would think such a comment would set my self esteem soaring, and it did for a while. However the high was short lived. Just as one's body comes crashing down after the sugary rush of a chocolate bar, so too did my confidence after the sugary sweet words of that compliment.

What followed was an evening devoted to creating a follow up post that equalled or bettered the one before. This led to disturbing obsessive behaviours that had me frantically searching for ideas, inspiration, something (anything) that would make an apt encore. I looked everywhere except under my bed (which is full of shoes, so that might have been a good move).

After six hours of such nonsense, I had nothing. It is past midnight and I STILL don't know what to write. Then I remembered the Aero chocolate bar advertisement ,"It's the bubbles of nothing that make it really something." So perhaps that's it. This post is about nothing.

So why did I come up with nothing today, when I really had something yesterday? Why did those words "best one yet" turn me into a fruit loop? Do musicians with No.1 hits go through the same madness?

Talking about No.1 hits, did you know that I wrote a song over two years ago and was told by a music professional that it had all the hallmarks of a No.1 hit? Did you also know that I haven't taken any steps into producing it? That's right - I've done nothing. Perhaps there is a pattern here - hmmmm...

Until tomorrow, I'd be grateful to you if you had any insights for me.

Grace xx

PS. It's just gone 1am here and Skippy the Bush Kangaroo is just starting. I can't believe it's still aired on TV - how fantastically retro is that? Oooooh the sexy helicopter pilot just crossed the screen, I once had a crush on him. Yay for Skippy!

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How Much Are You Worth?

I recently had an enquiry from a literacy coordinator, who employed my services a few years ago.

I ran a four week writing workshop for a group of students who produced a picture book for their young school 'buddy' - very cool.

I learned that the coordinator had relocated to a different school and that my services were required once more.

Only this time it was to read my book to a younger audience. Equally cool.

It's always nice when somebody makes contact after moving to a different place of employment. It makes you feel like you did a fabulous job in the first instance. Very rewarding.

I was asked to submit a price - bearing in mind the school was on a 'tight budget'. I have to admit, I severely dislike that statement. It's like one of those really annoying Top 40 songs that's forever playing on the radio - enough already!

Unenthusiastically, I calculated an absolute base price. It's the minimum amount I'm prepared to work for that makes the effort worth my while. I submitted the price and after a few days was met with a very polite "I'm sorry, it's above our budget". Not so rewarding.

This is where it gets interesting.

The old me (pre-Project Grace 2010) would have interpreted that into something like, I'm not good enough, I am not worth it, blah blah blah. I would have agonised over how much more I could reduce my fee whilst simultaneously stripping myself of any trace of dignity.

But today, that did not happen.

Instead of my predictable response, I simply shrugged and said "oh well, too bad" and started writing this post. I have no desire to rethink my price, renegotiate ways we could make it work and so on. I just don't want to waste any energy on it. Simple.

THIS IS A MIRACLE!

What is happening to me? Whatever it is, I like it.

Until tomorrow, realise how much you are worth and be 'not-negotiable' about it.

Grace xx