Excerpt from Face It by Erin Lynne
To be published this June 2017
In a world where selfies are ever present, to flaunt the fun we’re having in the moment, I find myself hiding in the shadows. It’s the part of the evening that depresses me, and it can last a long time, because people don’t content themselves with one selfie, no, they look at the photo and, unhappy with the light-to-angle ratio, take at least five more.
They’re confused when I back away to escape the photo and try ardently to pull me into the “fun”. They want me to feel included and they want me to want to be included, as if refusing to join means I disapprove. Going against the grain stirs an emotion of uncertainty, and people automatically take such refusal as rejection, personal rejection. What they neglect to understand is that it has absolutely nothing to do with them. But, again, in a selfie era, how else are we to respond?
While I do not mirror your personality or character, or other elements that make up your identity, I do reflect my own. In my small apartment in Vallon des Auffes, in France’s second biggest city called Marseilles, I installed four very small square mirrors from IKEA back in 2012. I didn’t need anything massive, just a bit of mirror so I could take a quick glance before heading out — the idea being to avoid leaving the house with eyeliner on my cheek. I’d glance once and say, “Well, that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” then wink at the me I recognized and knew so well.
I never believed myself to be one of the most beautiful girls in town, but I was lovely to look at and learned to appreciate my plain prettiness. It was good enough for me. When I’d leave the house, I wouldn’t look at myself in the mirror for the rest of the evening. Going out, for me, meant enjoying every second with friends I cared about, not dwelling on how good I looked or not.
And so it was, evenings upon evenings of good old fashion fun.
In a few months it will have been four years since the motorcycle accident that nearly took my life left me with an unmistakably new self identity. Throughout these four years the emotional rollercoaster has been a wild adventure for those in my life, but most especially for myself.
In publishing Face It, I hope to offer the necessary support to those suffering maxillofacial trauma and to generate a guide to the emotional path for their loved ones. I fought harder than I should have had to for my loved ones to cope with my feelings. Four years later and I still occasionally fight to have my feelings heard and accepted.
If this book can help, and I certainly hope it will, then I am once again willing to fight to transmit my thoughts on the subject to those ready to receive them: Let’s get it get published.
Please share the information via social media, during social settings and talk about this with people in your professional and private life. Help spread the word so that I can touch as many hearts as possible. Emotions travel beyond traumatic experiences and we’re all entitled to our own life stories. Keep in mind that psychological traumatic experiences run parallel in intensity with the physical ones, and that in life must all of us suffer at one point in time or another.
All financial contributions will support editorial payment. I’ve selected a copy editor in NYC who is ready and waiting to assist and encourage me in this project.
ps. These kinds of selfies make me smile (my little nephew Oliver)