"So have you got any other pics?"

I dread hearing this phrase. It's a throwback to my dislike of any pictures of myself. There are no pictures of me from the age of around 10 to early 20s. The sole one that was taken of me, when I was 15 by someone with an instant camera, was promptly torn up by me.

I'm a little better with it now, but it still is a struggle. It usually takes about 30 pictures to get 1 that I'm happy with. I am trying to get past this, to not think of my face as more befitting Parisian bell towers than a photo frame. There's rough days, but I think I'm getting there. Looking at myself in a mirror doesn't elicit recoils of horror each and every time, for a start.

But no one asking for "other pics" are looking for some nice pictures of a guy's face, are they? It's the rest of you from the neck down they are interested in. And while I might be happier with the occasional mug shot, full body is still some ways off free and easy picture taking. I look at myself in the mirror and see only the stuff I wish was different. Wish I weighted 20 pounds less. Wish I were more defined or toned. Wish I didn't have so much hair there. Wish I didn't have any hair right here. Wish I was a big taller, that my legs were longer, didn't carry weight the way I do.

A lot of these are things that can be changed, though. Unwanted hair? There's a bunch of ways to get rid of that. Weight can be lost, muscle can be built. Fix stuff like posture and maybe you can be a tiny bit taller. All this can be hard work, especially if you have trouble getting started (like this guy right here). But change is possible. That's kind of my motto now. Words I'm trying my hardest to live by. I'm not completely stuck being who I used to be.

There are practical benefits to things like losing weight and building muscle (better health, being stronger day to day, more energy). But being honest with myself was a point of this blog. And in all honesty, being able to click that reply button as I send a bunch of photos in various states of undress with a bit of confidence and not prefacing it with apologetic snivelling about having "some extra weight, hope that's not a problem" and worrying about my doughy arse spoiling my chance? That is a massive motivation, vain as it is.