When we moved into our new home, it was standing guard in the bedroom as it has been everywhere we’ve lived the last number of years, but this time around, it was in the way. Bulky. Too substantial for the room.
It held too much power. Too much space.
And it got me thinking.
What if I just ditch the damn thing? What if I don’t see what my entire body looks like for a while? What could it hurt?
It’s been a week. One week without my big bulky full length massive mirror, and you know what? I am doing JUST FINE.
I know I’m here even though I can’t see every inch of me. I know I’m important and worthy and beautiful without seeing what my ass looks like. The thing is, I’m better off without seeing it.
I’ve got this body now that is more beautiful than it ever was at 25 when I was thin and my belly wasn’t stretched out. I’ve got this body that is far more capable than I ever thought it would be. It’s sore and bruised and cut and blistered from walking and playing and lifting and bearing children and living life imperfectly, yet to the fullest. And I don’t need to criticize it. I love this body.
For me, in recent years, health and beauty has relied more upon how I feel and how others relate to me than upon a looking glass. I can tell when I feel good just by trusting my gut. The gut I no longer see in a mirror each morning.
As a woman who has been obsessively aware of her looks her entire life and knows the power of those looks, it is undeniably freeing to not give a shit.
To keep up appearances and still love to get dressed and look fancy is my choice most days, but I know without a doubt that my looks don’t define me.
I don’t need a behemoth of a mirror to tell me I am worthy and beautiful. I know it because it all comes from within. Just as it does you. THIS is how I want to live for my kids. To let them see me made up or not at all and know I am exactly the same person. That I am just as worthy with all the extras as I am in sweats and bedhead. That I am not randomly checking myself in mirrors to determine my looks.
I am confident no matter what I look like. I am lovable and worthy and funny and smart and beautiful.
At 17 months old, I see my kids looking at my face and noticing the make up and the lipstick and the glasses and it’s so important to me that I nuzzle and snuggle and am absolutely physically and emotionally theirs no matter what. Make up and dress are not a barrier to my kids.
This is the message – You won’t mess Mommy up. You hug and snuggle and touch and kiss and get the same Mommy no matter what she looks like. And if you do mess Mommy up, she doesn’t care. She cares more about you.
We’ve all known people who care more about getting messed up than connection. I used to be one of those people. I was terrified of not looking perfect. Not anymore. I can fix my make up at the office. You go right ahead and smear away if you want to.
I think I will keep living with the old guard out in the garage. It’s still out there, but I don’t need him as desperately as I once did. That to me is enormous progress and growth.
Do I want to make sure I don’t have broccoli in my teeth and that I don’t have peanut butter stuck on the back of my thigh? YES. Yes I do because pride, but some days I’m just not going to see it. And that’s okay. Sometimes living life without reflection can be just as therapeutic as all the hard work we do on ourselves.
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Too Sober For This 