About a week ago, I found myself scrolling through old photos that were uploaded onto my mother's Facebook. My goal was to find an old picture of myself dressed up for Halloween so I could make it my Twitter picture (you know, since Halloween is right around the corner). But somehow that goal left my mind and I began looking at all the pictures and albums which brought me back to my past.

There were some from a few months ago. They were pictures of my family and me at an 80's themed wedding, and we posed with our arms around each other, smiling wide for the camera. I looked at the pictures and thought they were cute. I mean, I loved the theme and we all were rocking the 80's look. I would think of small comments in my head about how I should've maybe posed differently so I would look more flattering. Or maybe how I shouldn't have worn a cut-off sleeve shirt because it makes my arms look bad.

However many critiques I had, I dismiss them and continue to click on a different album.

There were some photos from a trip my family went on to Disney World in 2012. I still remember the warm sun on my skin and the excitement of going on rollercoasters, the taste of chocolate fudge and the smell of flowers when we walked by them. I can recall the beautiful neon lights that were everywhere because it was nearly Christmas time. I can still see Disney characters waving to me and dancing on the floats during the parades. The sight of bright and colorful fireworks exploding over Cinderella's castle is forever engrained in my memory.

But, I completely forgot about all the photos we took of me. I look at them now and think 'why'?

I had braces then and I couldn't stop thinking, 'wow these look horrible', 'I look so funny here', 'why was I so awkward?'. Over and over these thoughts would go through my head, but I drowned them out by thinking about the pretty lights, the roller coasters, the fireworks, the fudge, and the smell of flowers.

I go further down the page of photo albums and I stop at the ones of when I was pretty young, maybe twelve. My friend would invite my family and I to the lake and go on her family's boat, where we would tube and ride around the waters. There were several photos of me on the tube with my best friend, holding on for dear life as the boat pulled us across the calm lake. Water would hit my face as my hair is flying all over the place. All the while, my mother snaps some photos of us as were slowly falling off the tube.

I see these photos and I see one where I am sitting in the boat, smiling. The first thing I noticed was my stomach. The photo was pretty unflattering and I thought about how it should've been taken at a different angle or how I should have sat up more.

Then, it hit me. For those twenty minutes of me scrolling through my photos, I was constantly judging them. I sat there in my bed, looking at the picture of the younger me on the screen and asked myself, "When did I start caring?"

The smile that was on my face was genuine, a real smile which is one that I only ever feel every so often. At those times when I was in Disney or falling off the tube, I didn't care. I didn't care about the way I looked or how I looked awkward when I posed. I didn't care that I had braces or didn't wear makeup or how my stomach looked.

The entire time I was scrolling through the photos, I had something to point out, something to critique, something I wanted to change. But back when I was in the moment of those photos, I didn't think about all those things.

I compare those pictures with the ones I take now.

I try to find a great angle. I try to find great lighting. I fix my hair so that it covers parts of my face. I crop out whatever I feel the need to hide. I adjust my lips so that my smile looks good instead of having a genuine one.

When did I start feeling like I need to a photo to be good in order to post it somewhere? When did I start losing the love for myself like I had when I was younger? Maybe not even that, but when did my mindset of myself change?

If you scroll through my pictures from bottom to top, you can see how the carefree, genuinely smiling girl had changed into someone who posts photos that have a process. The process of finding a perfect angle, standing in good lighting, doing my hair, putting on makeup, taking dozens of selfies until I find the one (if I even can), find a filter or edit it, come up with a clever caption, and upload it.

Is it to fit into social norms? To make myself seem cooler than I really am? To show people that I am having a great time in life, whether I really am or not? What is the reason for caring so much about what I look like in photos?

Whatever the reason may be, I hope to live a little more carefree and relearn that mindset I had when I was a little girl. The little girl who didn't care about how others see her.