Cleaning Out My Camera

Pictures are a big part of my family.  My dad loves photography and at any family event, big or small, he is there with his camera.  Eventually, as I started loving photography too, he would hand me the camera and unwittingly I became the unofficial family photographer; a terrible thing for an attention-loving youngest child as I was no longer in any of the photos.  My sisters would probably say it evens out since my whole childhood was documented extensively. 

Taking pictures is one of my absolute favorite things to do.     It is wonderful to be able to capture a moment in time, to tell a story in an instant. Just put me outside with a camera and I can stay busy for hours.  Until recently, I had quite a collection of half-full memory cards.  I have been meaning to organize all my photos and memory cards for quite some time now and have finally gotten around to it.  It’s funny to see the 128 MB memory cards that I got with my first camera; now I use 8 GB cards.  What a difference only a few years makes!  After a lot of sorting, deleting, and moving around, I now have my photos organized into folders ranging my 2006-2011.

Back in my day, when we never went to a party without a disposable camera, we were more careful with the amount of pictures that we would take, but with digital cameras you can snap away at stupid things with no cost.  So the freedom of digital combined with my familial obsession with photography has left me drowning in old pictures.

I wasn’t anticipating running across pictures of my exes.  But like everything else the relationships were well documented in my camera.  Some caught me off guard as memories came rushing back, but what surprised me most was how easy it was to get rid of those pictures.  I am a super sentimental girl and save almost everything from boyfriends (Morris, I have the Pep Boys business card in my wallet where it will stay).  Eventually as the years wear on the ex-files slowly dwindle.  They dwindle a lot faster if you have pissed me off because I have been known to burn a few things in my lifetime.  Digital cameras may have improved photography but they have really put a damper on the popular breakup routine of burning any possessions or memories of the ex. I actually don’t know if it is all that popular or if it is like an urban myth, but I have done it and I love it.  I think we have a little pyro in us, it’s good, cheap therapy.      

It was interesting to see in pictures the things I have gone through the past five years, the different phases, different friendships, different hairstyles and eye-opening to see the relationships from this distant perspective.  One boyfriend was barely ever present, and my pictures were evidence.   Every time I invited him to do something with my friends he would decline in favor of catching up with his DVR or working on his bike.  There are a few pictures of us here and there, but mostly it is me having a great time with my friends and it bothers me to know that during those moments I was probably anxious and upset because he never wanted to participate in my life.  Now I have no feeling when I look at his pictures and didn't think twice when I deleted the memories.  From this point in my life I am able to look back at that time and realize that we were such a lame couple and totally not right for each other.   

It was harder to go through the more recent pictures from this last year, from the time of the abusive relationship I was in.  It reminded me of who I was, or rather wasn’t.  In all those pictures I can feel what I felt at the time, the sinking feeling in my stomach, the feeling that something wasn’t quite right and not being quite strong enough to walk away.  It hurts to see that I wasted so much energy on someone who didn’t deserve it.  It hurts to know I was the girl who let someone make me feel so small.  I ignored so many things, so many lies, temper tantrums, bad attitudes.  I was fading away, a mere shadow of who I used to be and I have no idea how it happened. 

Recently I had a mini heart-to-heart with a good friend’s girlfriend who I adore.  She told me she was happy to see how great I am doing now.  When she found out about my relationship with the abusive ex she was shocked it happened to me and that I put up with it.  She told me how her and her boyfriend discussed it and asked themselves what in the hell I was thinking.  I felt like such an idiot, like I let myself down along with a lot of other people who thought highly of me.  I was stupid and foolish and I have never seen it quite that way before.  I don’t blame myself for the way he treated me, but I do blame myself for not being smart enough to walk away before he left me with bruises.  I doubt she has any idea how much her words resonated with me, but it was probably the most honest anyone has been with me about the situation.  It was easy to delete his pictures.  They mean nothing, he means nothing, it was a bad time and a great lesson, but I don’t need to see his face to remember. 

Getting ready for New York has involved a lot of purging.  In preparation for this next stage of my life I have been getting rid of extra clothes and possessions, organizing the things I will need to take with me right away, spending my last times in Arizona with my friends, choosing what to leave behind.  I plan on leaving behind a lot more than some old clothes and furniture though.  I am saying goodbye to all the negativity, the painful memories, the nervousness I have of running into someone I don’t want to see.  Just like with my memory cards, I am getting rid of the hurtful and useless things I have been holding on to in order to make room for better memories and people that have already started to enter my life. 

Right now I am living on hope.