Through With The Looking Glass
I’ve come along way to liking my reflection in the mirror. I’ve come a long way from not liking my reflection to feeling beautiful inside and out. But I still have my bad days. I still have many moments of self-doubt when I look in the mirror. I doubt that the person I see staring back is not the same girl staring in. Sometimes I get lost within my own eyes, staring myself down and demanding my true inner beauty come and outshine all my imperfections. I know she’s inside and sometimes it’s like I am banging on a locked door. Because I know if I can get her to come out, she can dazzle and distract everyone else from my insecure imperfections. Or at least attempt to.
It’s funny how something as fragile as glass can shatter as something as fragile as self-esteem. It’s funny how the same mirror can make me feel utterly confident and bring me down to reality at the same time. I can look in the mirror in the morning and feel utterly dejected and unsexy. My eyebrows will feel too furry, my belly will feel nine months pregnant, and my eyes could fill enough sand bags to save the Titanic. Moments like that used to make me a wall flower for the rest of day. Sure, once I opened up to people the shyness wore off but I mostly remained guarded about people getting too close. Until this blog, I’ve been very careful about what I let people know about me, like leaving a trail of bread crumbs.
I still have moments of shyness although, I’m good about hiding it. Moments when I see faces I want to introduce myself to or when I hear a conversation I’m not sure how to invite myself into, I try not to let people see that. Instead, I am known as the girl whose really friendly and social butterfly. I pull up chairs and start conversations with people I don’t know; say hello to anyone for no reason except to say hi; the go getter girl whose not afraid to flirt with boys or be afraid of asking them out first. Which, if you were to look at an entry from just two months ago, you can see the same girl struggling to get out. It’s weird for me to think how much I have progressed in such a short period of time. I am still the same girl, fumbling her way around in the dark. Like Bilbo Baggins in Chapter Five of the Hobbit (Riddles in the Dark) “No great leap for a man, but a leap in the dark. Straight over Gollum’s head he jumped, seven feet forward and three in the air; indeed, had he known it, he only just missed cracking his skull on the low arch of the passage.”
When I started this blog, I took that leap in the dark. I’ve mostly been stumbling and trying to stay out of the cross hair’s of dwarves. Everyday I’ve been solving riddles in the dark about myself. Sometimes I falter and nearly get beheaded by an irate dwarf. But I exaggerate for creative licences. Just saying. Because if I can come so far in just two months, who knows where I can be in another two? Because as downtrodden and outcast as I can make myself feel, for no reason at all, I can come back to that same mirror that left me so rejected a few hours later and feel like a sex kitten. My imperfections which may have started out as a hinderance, have suddenly become an asset. My hair will have fallen out of its half bun at the right angle, my cheeks flushed and I’ll notice that my eyes sparkling full of life. All because I just decided not to give a damn how I felt earlier that morning. (Okay, and sometimes with a little help from the makeup fairy) And who knows, maybe I’m wrong but it’s just what I see. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve just pulled out a mirror from my purse when no one’s looking or took a quick nip into the bathroom because I just wanted to make sure I was imperfectly perfect put together.
But in truth a reflection be it by a mirror or sometimes by the camera on my phone, is only a handicap. I went to the Rose Festival last Friday night with Chris to watch the opening night Fireworks. In truth I was feeling suhlubby (thanks auto correct for informing me that’s not a real word). I wasn’t feeling ugly but just tired and not particularly attractive. But we went to the fair anyway. Mostly to get out and have a good time since I had gotten called into work for another nine-hour shift the next day. Right before the fireworks, I decided to take some photos to remember by. I pulled Chris in close and snapped a badly aimed photo. And while a few months ago, the same photo would normally have left me over analyzing every flaw, it instantly had the opposite effect. Immediately, I pulled my hair out of its bun, shook my hair loose and just felt as good as I did inside. Because while I’ve gotten good at feeling beautiful inside, and slowly recognizing it outwardly, I still need that crutch to verify or deny the results. The mirror and camera phone are just a crutch to just get me walking again. I need to feel confident and trust myself that the inner beauty is reflecting outwards without constantly checking on the results. In essence, I’m through with the looking-glass.