Who’s Going to Take My Picture?

Yesterday my department held a awards ceremony at a sculpture garden in my area. The show contained typical office comedy and they had an open bar (you know why I’m here)… it was an all around great afternoon.


After everyone networked we had the opportunity to tour the grounds. So, I gathered my work tribe and we ventured. For about 10 minutes. Then they had to turn around and go help clean up.


I felt some type of way.


I mainly came to see the sculpture garden and get popping pictures for my blog. Who was going to take my pictures if I was alone?


But, something in me said, “girl, you’ll be alright. Walk around a bit.”


So I did just that. I went and ventured alone.


To most people this isn’t a big deal. Most people are perfectly fine doing things on their own. I’m not most people.


Ever since I can remember I’ve had a crew. A tribe, as Shonda loves to call it. A clique. People. But since I’ve moved to Jersey, I’ve been mostly on my own. I hate it but, I’m slowing becoming comfortable with being alone 98% of the time. As my Dad would put it, “I’m building character.” But still, who am I supposed to make corny jokes with? Who is going to laugh at me dancing off beat? WHO is going to take my picture?


But alas, I decided to be a big girl and ventured. On. My. Own.  And guess what? It wasn’t the end of the world. I actually LOVED it. I sat my camera down and fell in love with the 10 second burst feature. I found out the best way to take a selfie with a DSLR. I walked around and thought about the sculptures and how I felt looking at them. I felt free. I was a big girl and I was successfully “adulting.”


I’m sure this won’t be the first time I confront something that usually scares me. But this time, I’m freakin’ proud of myself. Why? Mainly because I got some really good pictures. But also, because every small victory for me means the world. #ItsTheLittleThings