There is nothing I hate more than pictures that have been touched-up. All the pics I have posted of myself are photoshop-free, and if anything they have only been lightened or have had minor color adjustments.

I received an email from the the photographer who did my most recent shoot. In it I found a couple of pics, obviously touched up, of me with the angel wings (like you see on my profile).

The thing I noticed first was that he removed the scar I have above my right ribcage. I immediately felt annoyed at the photographer, which I had already developed a distaste for due to his lack of professionalism and cocky attitude.
Yet, my annoyance grew into something larger. It grew into an abhorrence for american culture in general, for “perfection,” for manipulation, misrepresentation, and for the ideals placed on women to be “flawless.”

I love my scars. They are a part of me, my walk, and journey. Everything has a past. Me, I have a past with no regrets.

It’s almost as if we want to erase the fact that perceived “negative” things have happened to us… things that cause us pain…like scars. Heaven forbid we have unpleasant feelings like suffering, sadness, or anger!

Well, to that – and to that stupid photographer – I say, “Leave my SCARS, leave my UNEVEN BREASTS, leave MY WRINKLES, and leave ALL THE EVIDENCE that I have been here, on this earth as a human being!”