I knew the day would inevitably come for me. It may have already come or you’re waiting for that dooms day like I had been. The first time it happened, my oldest daughter, Mimi, was about 6ish. She is quite bright and proficient with a computer and knows how to spell “Lana.” It was only a matter of time before she decided to look me up. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, other than the fact that her friends didn’t believe or recognize me as her mama even though we pretty much have the same face only on two different bodies. I suppose it was because they were professional head shots. And well, you know, I showered and had my makeup done so I looked like I loved myself.
Fast forward to a few days ago *ahem* yesterday and it was a completely different experience. This time, it was my son doing the googling. I know… The impending doom is lurking. And so. Now at 8 he is comfortable navigating a computer, he felt the need to Google me while at his after school program. I asked him what he found. He stated that I looked, “very beautiful in my pictures.” I asked him if he read this blog (aka how much child-proofing/internet safety should I be concerned about). He said he only saw pictures. I then asked what he thought of them. He said, “Good things, mama. I’m proud of you. You look beautiful.”
And there it was. Crisis averted. I was ever so grateful he was at his dad’s when we spoke because I do not have a poker face at ALL and he and his adept empathic, stellar intrapersonal skills would’ve sussed me out faster than a fat lady chasing an ice cream truck in August. While I am aware of his gifting ever since he was small, I can appreciate that there are times when I want to keep my thoughts- well, my own thoughts. At 2 years old, this kid would look at me or I’d only have to say ‘hello’ and he’d say, “What’s wrong, Mama?”
This caused a deep soul searching, blog worthy, home-made vanilla chai tea latte session. It made me wonder- what if my life had been different and when my children googled me, they came up with different, THOT alternatives? What if my entrepreneurial aspirations had not been what they found, but my robust career as a booty vixen Instagram model? Not that there is anything wrong with having your booty out on display to collect a cheque, as those women are sexually empowered and have a right to exercise this in any way they choose, but what alternative choices could’ve lead me to similar, or worse, circumstances?
I couldn’t help but remember this one summer I was completely broke as my student summer loan had gotten messed up- thank you government. I was in university full time, a single mama, and had no time to work on top of that hot mess. I did thing about somewhat lucrative, not quite illicit activities of perhaps selling previously enjoyed panties as a way of making extra cash. Apparently, there is a market for this particular fetish- see Orange is the New Black Season 3. With the support of my lady squad of awesomeness who gave me a swift reality kick in the skinny jeans, I did not pursue that life path.
But what if I had. What if you did? What if your kids, parents, friends googled you. What would they find? Would you be proud of what they find? While those wild pictures from Cancun Spring Break circa 1999 are still at large via your digital footprint, there is still time to revamp that digital image you are projecting.
You can be your best self both in person and digitally. You deserve to be proud of yourself. You deserve good things.