I Hate Selfies Because it Requires Chin, Neck and Profile

It’s time to come clean. On a clear and sunny Sunday morning — while hanging outside on the porch — the soft sounds of activity assuringly throbbed around me.

Messages checked and replied and my Instagram feed continued to supply the nutrients for another round of feasting.

Time for a selfie? I think so.

This time the pose would be an ode to nature in the city. A fitting display of casual elegance that will capture how effortlessly I can look the part without actually playing the part.

It’s taking too long to achieve this modest goal.

The test run is disastrous as I struggle to compete with the elements behind me. I’m the one with everything to gain and yet I’m losing.

After garnering a couple of shots that manage to avoid the temptation of giving my already generous chin extra miles — I toss my phone away.

Selfies are for self-indulged idiots!

Of course seconds later I retrieve my phone and slowly go through the glaring evidence of why selfies on a gorgeous Sunday morning — isn’t an exercise in contentment and poised self-adulation.

I pick myself apart like a sour pickle with too many dots to count.

The chin. It juts out like so which distorts my side view. My once heightened cheekbones are sagging. My neck is too short. My head is too big which makes my face comically long. My nose has widened since the last time I noticed it and everything else isn’t quite strong enough to compensate for the pieces that are out of place.

I’m confused.

So, it’s not that I hate selfies because they’ve converted us to pompous, shameless and validation-seeking desperadoes with too much time to spare.

I’m not into taking pictures of myself every hour of every day because I look like crap — so what’s the point?

Ironically enough — I look better in person and I prefer to indulge in real-time with actual human beings in my presence — rather than the thrill of connectors — that always seem to be traced back to the origin of speedos, a bathroom and a tank top that is unreasonably fitted.

As I contemplate my self-analysis — I suddenly realize that I am not alone.

She’s standing at an interesting angle and clicking away with pleasurable abandon.

Damn it! Why didn’t I think of that.

FYI: This is just a light-hearted view of a topic that I find fascinatingly humorous. I’m not sifting for compliments or validation regarding the way I look.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store