Lauren at “Wearing History” wrote a painfully true and honest post about our way to always appear “perfect” online and in social media.
How it is so easy for some people online, to write nasty comments and the following fear of anybody getting under our perfect polished surface.
This view of perfection we put up can have some serious consequences on other people who’s only seeing this polished shine all day, every day. I’s so easy to compare yourself to others perfection and put yourself down. We must all help each other and try to change this trend.
The simple truth is – No body’s perfect, and everybody have their own problems (big and small).
As a first (small) step to achieve this, I’ve decided to take Lauren up on her challenge – To tell what’s really going on behind the scenes in some of my posted photos.
Ok, here we go:
My legs was so sore and my feet so full of blisters, due to a rapid increase in my running schedule, I could barely walk and never the les wear my shoes.
I’ve had such a stressful week at work (covering for two sick co-workers while executing a big political meeting on my own), that I’d breaked down crying several times the past days (both at work and home at night).
I’d had the biggest argument with my boyfriend in our 10 years relationship over me wanting to take the job and do this movie. I feared we would not make it as a couple.
(on top of which I got harassed and grabbed at by lots of creepy drunkards at the party).
I arrived at this event more then an hour late after getting completely lost on my way there. I’d sat on a bench lost in the capital late at night, without cell batteries, and not eaten anything that day, crying. Just to find the food all gone once a nice lady finally helped me find my way to the party.
I was suffering from the exertions of the day before (see above) and had the migraine from hell.
I hadn’t slept in weeks due to my terrible itching skin, which caused me to scratch the back of my thighs (and my arms, chins and neck) to raw open wounds. I got sleeping pills to stop the itching and help me sleep, but all it did was to make me les aware of my actions during the night, making my hands (and legs) even bloodier in the morning.
I could barley sit down, and was really afraid I would ruin the white dress with blood.
My sister was in the hospital – fighting for her life in IVF related complications.
This post was really hard for me to write.
Not just to tell the un-glamours truth, but also to re-live some of the worst things from my life.