Why is looking at pictures of ourselves with trichotillomania so hard?

I refused to look at pictures of myself with trichotillomania until I started writing my book in 2018. The idea to look at them never crossed my mind until then because I honestly worked so hard to forget them.

What I do remember is: hating getting my picture taken, hating looking at the pictures once they were developed, and hoping that my parents would hide the pictures in an album in the back of the closet that no one could find. Hidden forever. Forgotten.

When I started writing The Trichster Diaries I knew it would be important to include pictures. Luckily, I was able to find a few. Even then, when I was beginning to open up about my trichotillomania so much that I planned on publishing a book, it was still so hard to look. Why?

When I was younger and saw pictures of myself with trichotillomania I felt shame and embarrassment. It was as if someone took a picture of me undressing or on the toilet and shared it with my family. It was me at my most vulnerable state and yet, it is in the family album.

I'd look at myself and my stomach would knot. I thought I was so ugly. I began to feel anger toward my parents! Why would they want to keep these pictures? What was wrong with them? Were they purposefully trying to hurt me?

I remember comparing pictures of myself from before my trichotillomania began and longed to be that beautiful again. I wished so badly to be the "before" and not the "after." I felt sick knowing that I probably would never be beautiful again. Trichotillomania stole that from me.

So the pictures stayed hidden in albums never to be looked at until 17 years later.

When I finally looked at those pictures as an adult I felt a deep sadness for my younger self. Wow. I was so little. It's funny how seeing a picture of yourself can really bring things into focus. Of course I knew I was little when I was experiencing trichotillomania, but back then I was trying to put on a brave face. Maybe I felt older at the time because my trichotillomania caused me to grow up quicker than my peers? Either way, no matter how I felt at the time, I was a little kid and it broke my heart.

Once I allowed the sadness to pass through me I started to look at the pictures with a more compassionate perspective. Look at me!

I was strong.

I was beautiful.

I was deserving of love, kindness, and support.

I was scared to be photographed but I did it anyway.

I went out in the world and lived when all I wanted to do was hide away.

I was doing my best.

I was doing a good job.

Looking at pictures of myself with trichotillomania was hard but by looking at them I was able to heal my inner child. Maybe it's time for you to bring out those old albums and have a look...