Being in photographs.
The one thing that can make me want to rip my hair out and scratch my face, and put on a spot of make-up and actually put some sort of effort into my hair at the same time.
It’s the one thing that makes your self-consciousness sky-rocket, and simultaneously make your self-esteem plummet to the realms of Hades.
You’ll have this wonderful notion as you take a pose; ‘Oh, I’m going to look great,’ but when the actual photograph itself has been distributed and commented on, you’ll discover that your hair had been blown back in the most unattractive way possible, and that your eyes were actually half-closed in the snapshot that had been sent out to the rest of humankind.
There will always be something that wouldn’t be flattering; a lopsided smile here, or a bulge that you certainly could have done without there, or worst of all (or perhaps best), someone covering you entirely from the view of the camera.
The worst thing is, that no matter where you remove evidence of an “embarrassing” photo, someone will always come up to you, and spread the very picture you would have worked so hard to erase from memory, around your circle like a flu virus. Such are the woes of people today, where something as silly as a photograph has the power to both break friendships and create new ones.
And such is the activity that I cannot stand.