It's Kind of a Long Story... about GELOY

A picture is worth a thousand words

Hey Drama Goblins!

I’ve been a bit overextended as I get ready to go on vacation, so this week’s post will be another from the archives. The second of three I’ll be sharing that I wrote last summer - way before I started my Substack - when I was on my FMLA leave and writing was my medicine.

It was much better medicine than I was getting from Two Chairs, but that’s a story for another day.

I’ve come a long way since then, but I am not out of the woods. (Are any of us ever?)

Last Friday I completed a 10-day detox led by a friend who is a fitness instructor and nutrition coach. Several other friends were doing it too, and I’m nothing if not a joiner. I also really wanted to kickstart healthier habits. To get back to where I was before the pandemic and before the tree fell when I felt good about myself and how I looked. Back to when my clothes fit.

I was really proud of myself for sticking to the plan. I even brought my own food to other people’s houses. I wasn’t thrilled with losing only 3lbs, but I was OK with it until the other people I was doing it with shared that they lost more.

I *know* it’s not a competition, but it totally triggered me into a spiral. I was weepy most of the day. The negative self-talk was vicious.

I wish I had a competent mental health provider to help me through these episodes, but that has proven to be elusive, so writing and sharing is still my best medicine.

Speaking of that vacation, the next post or two will be brief so I can not break my streak of continuous posting. I’m sure the trip to Mexico with 16 other fun, funny, and fierce women will give me more than a few stories.

I’m so glad you’re here,

-Lara

I’m Such a Great Guy

Short story: 

A New York Times and Instagram-famous photographer’s photos forced me to take a good, long look at myself.

Long story:

At some point, I must have replied to a query from someone looking for GenX women to interview for an article in the New York Times on women and retirement accounts because, in March of 2023, I got an email from the writer asking if we could talk. Me? In the New York Times? Yes, please.

She really liked my account of my retirement accounting. Basically, I had no idea what I had after John died. I let him manage what we called “The Family Business” not because he was a financial whizz, but because money made me so anxious I didn’t want to open that door. I took a “don’t ask/don’t tell” approach. As a hairdresser once told me when we were discussing money, “When I was a kid all I knew about money was that we didn’t have enough.” My financial education was about the same. I am frugal by inclination and necessity. My retirement plan was to diligently contribute to my 401K, set it and forget it, and figure I’ll have to figure out how to work until I die because it will never be enough. Like saving for a house, it’s like standing on the edge of an empty pool with an eye dropper.

I have never been prouder of myself than when I spent the day organizing all of the retirement accounts we’d accumulated and took a good, hard look at the numbers. None of the accounts were big individually or collectively. It’s not enough, but I know what it is. I wasn’t sticking my head in the sand. I wasn’t afraid.

I also started keeping track of spending and the accounts’ growth in the You Need a Budget app. It has been life-changing. It’s the difference between knowing what I have vs. what I can afford and it has gone a long way toward easing my issues around money.

As we were setting up the interview, she said the paper would like a photo. Could she send a photographer out to shoot me? Me? A photo in the New York Times? Yes, please.

She set me up with stringer Geloy Concepcion, who came out to my work with his camera and took a lot of photos in lots of places around the office, in different light, and different settings. He was sweet and soft-spoken with a heavy Filipino accent and I joked that if I used these photos on dating apps and got a husband, I’d name my firstborn after him and that my firstborn was 23 and might not be into it,  but hey, he’d have to deal. I think he thought I was a weirdo.

I was curious about Geloy and found him on Instagram. I did not expect to find what I found.

On his Instagram, he’s been doing a project for several years where he invites people to share, “Things You Wanted to Say But Never Did” and illustrates them with his photos with the figures in white silhouette so everyone can impress themselves on them.

They are raw. They are moving. They are heartbreaking. They are beautiful.

“I hope you forgive me, but not now. I don’t deserve it yet.”

”I’m terrified of how loneliness brings me a twisted kind of comfort.”

“I’m afraid that I’ve already peaked and this is all I will ever be”

“I wish I met you before all of these bad things happened to me”

“I hate that I can’t hate you”

I was captivated. Engrossed, and so, so grateful that he was giving this forum for these emotions. It’s such a welcome antidote to the inspirational memes, which can be wonderful and healing and validating and indeed inspiring, and also… people are more than that.

They are also in pain and it’s OK to share pain while you’re in it and give words to it and not only open up after you’re through it and have triumphed and have a big lesson to share. Some people never get there.

A few weeks later the article came out and the photo was…. well. Let’s say.. serious. I looked like a middle aged woman worried about her financial future. I got a lot of praise for the image. People assured me I looked beautiful, but a close friend did acknowledge it didn’t look like me. It’s not how she sees me. That was comforting, it's not how I see myself.

A few months later Geloy contacted me and let me know he was opening a studio for portraits and wanted to seed his site with some images before the launch, and did I want to book a session?

I had every reason not to do it. I don’t need photos. I don’t part with money easily. I don’t feel great about myself physically or emotionally. 

I didn’t love the image they chose for the article, but I absolutely loved Geloy, and superstitious me thought, “There’s a reason he came into my life. This is all part of a bigger story.”

So, those are reasons why I *should* do it. 

There’s also the “I’m such a great guy!” aspect. On an old episode of Seinfeld, Jerry is the only customer at a new restaurant and he tells himself, “I’m a such a great guy!” for eating there. He’s supporting a local business when no one else does! This place would go under if it weren’t for him! He’s a great guy! Of course, it doesn’t work out and the place goes under.

I made the appointment and paid the deposit and looked forward to both the session and the story. 

Geloy’s studio is in a converted steam car factory across the street from Pixar Studios. The space is big and light-filled and I couldn’t help but feel proud of him. A little maternal. Kvelling. He’s a fairly recent immigrant from the Philippines who had some success after college with exhibitions there and in Japan. When he moved to the US he had a hard time establishing his career. He almost gave up photography.

His fortunes changed, but he’s still on the come-up. His wife works in a bakery, although she’s studying makeup so they can work together. They have a 5-year-old daughter.

The session was fun and comfortable. He has a very gentle, slow, caring manner. He’s not a “You’re a tiger! Make love to the camera!” type. There was Filipino pop music playing and the conversation was easy, but limited by… not exactly a language barrier. He speaks and understands English perfectly but by the accent and cultural barrier. 

Here’s where I admit as a native English speaker, I’m not always confident I’m being understood by people who speak heavily accented English. I speak slower, with less complexity. It’s a behavior on the racism spectrum I’m not proud of, but I own and am aware of.

And while his Instagram is all about saying things that are unsaid, deep, personally revealing things, he isn’t super open and forthcoming in person. I did most of the talking. I told him about the tree, where I was in my life, and about my son. He’s a good listener. I felt seen, heard and like the photos would reveal some truth about me. I was already dictating in my mind the story I would tell about them when I shared them.

I got a link to the photos late in the evening after a particularly good day. A day I had spent connecting in significant and interesting ways with friends new and old. I had a long telephone conversation with a new friend about some deep personal issues. I’d sent a gift to a friend of a couple of years and she was so moved and touched, she left me a voice memo that ended with, “You are so kind and generous. You are a blessing.” I connected two friends to collaborate on an article about women and retirement (Nothing is a coincidence! Another article about women and retirement!). I walked to the library and had a fun exchange with the librarian.

It was a day that flew because I’d spent it slowly, doing things that felt authentic to who I am as a person. Doing the things that give me purpose and fuel me. And, also authentically, was marked by periods of deep doubt, regret, shame, and anxiety.

I wish I could say that I opened the link to the photos and was blown away by them. That Geloy had seen me in ways that I didn’t see myself. That I looked beautiful in every one and couldn’t wait to share and show them and complete the story I’d started in my mind.

But narratives are not neat. Life is not a fairy tale. It’s messy, weird, ambiguous, and isn’t easily tied with a bow.

I opened the link and looked at the photos and thought, “I look old, heavy, and tired.”

In my mind, I look like I looked in 2015-2018 when I was at my thinnest and happiest. Then, it was a shock when I saw photos of myself, “Look at me! I look so great! I can’t believe that’s me!” 

My headshot proofs from 2018

I can’t deny the last few years have taken their toll. John’s death. Single parenting. Trump. Covid. The tree. My long disentanglement from my ex-boyfriend. The many moves. Max growing up and leaving home. The loss of people and friendships. Menopause and sleep issues. Work tsuris. A year when not a week went by without a major plot twist. Things that have shaken my faith in myself and my intuition and sense of reality. 

I saw all of that on my face and body in the photos. He had captured the real me alright.

Now I had to rewrite the narrative I had been dictating. Not only about the photos but about Geloy. I was excited to enthusiastically recommend him for headshots and portrait work and help him with what little influence I had to build his career. To be the “I’m a great guy” guy. 

Now? What is the right thing to do? I didn’t love the photos. A friend said, “Some of them don’t look like you.” A few were OK. I felt foolish for having done them, and so conflicted about how to frame them (metaphorically, I’m not actually going to frame photos of myself)  and how to recommend Geloy, who I so admire on so many levels and I want so much for him to succeed.

There of course is the option of doing nothing. Of telling the few people I told about the photo shoot if they should ask that I didn’t love the photos and leave it at that. 

That didn’t feel authentic to me. For better or worse - and I believe for the better - I have been living my life relatively publicly on Facebook and this felt like too big of a story not to tell. I give a lot and get a lot from my Facebook community. I’m constantly finding the line between privacy and secrecy and I don’t always get it right. 

How do I know I needed to share this story? I’m writing it in the middle of the night. It was in my head and I had to get it up and out of me so I got up and out of bed and have been writing for an hour and am focused and clear-headed and my restless leg syndrome aches which usually are very severe when I can’t sleep are nowhere to be found. This is what I’m supposed to be doing. 

(I never did share the photos on my Facebook page. I did share them, and a version of this story, in a Facebook group I’m in for women over 40)

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EPILOGUE: At our photo session, Geloy told me he’d been approached by Better Help for a partnership. He’d been using the service himself to make sure he could recommend them in good conscience, and he said he had found it helpful.

In the last few months, I’ve seen his sponsored posts pop up on Facebook. I’m so thrilled he’s being recognized (and monetized) for his gifts and talents.

Know someone who would get something out of that story? Please share.

Lara sez…

Listen!

80s Deep Cut of The Week! From the Jaunty One Hit Wonders File, I give you…

Read!

Rock, Paper, Scissors is the page-turning thriller that got me hooked on Alice Feeney

Follow!

Welcome to Heidi is bad-ass Heidi Clemments’ bad-ass Instagram. She gets dressed in fantastic outfits and drops witty, wise, world-weary truth bombs. She’s a broad in the best sense of the word. She intimidates me a bit, and I wanna hang out with her.

Buy!

Geloy’s beautiful work is featured in his guided journal, Things You Wanted to Say But Never Did: A Photographic Journal to Process Your Feelings a safe place for things you may not be ready or able to say.

Drink!

Good Earth tea is one of those things I go through phases of drinking and forgetting all about. I’m on a drinking-it kick. It’s the most full-bodied tea I’ve ever had. It got me through the detox as substitute for both coffee and dessert.

Before I let you go…

I still have a few Drama Goblin notebooks to give away!

Two ways to win!

1. Comment below or reply to the email with a thought, suggestion, or words of encouragement.

2. Share this post with someone you think would like it. Either hit the green button or forward the email and “cc” me: lara@larastarr.com