New Mirrors

We recently moved into a new home and inherited new reflections.

After living in my previous home for twelve years, I had come to know the mirrors and windows of my home, and learned to navigate where my reflection showed up.

For example, when I walked by the front door, I would pass the window that showed me at a wide angle, and cut me off mid-thigh.

When I put my youngest daughter to bed, I knew to expect the imageof my whole body passing through the bathroom mirror adjacent to her bedroom.

I understood the contours of my body in the circular mirrors in my own bathroom, standing to check the shower temperature before I got in.

But in my new home, these reflections have changed. They are replaced by new mirrors and new windows in new placements, and they catch me unaware.

The previous owners left a large mirror in the closet area of my bedroom, where I now get dressed.

A few weeks ago, I was just out of the shower and turned on the light above the mirror, which uses a whiter bulb than I am used to. As I passed by, I noticed my stomach. The light showed evidence of some contours that I was not privy to in my old mirrors.

I heard myself think two things:

1. I am getting older.

2. I feel unfamiliar with my reflection, and it is disorienting.

And then, following the integration of these thoughts, I heard myself think:

And I can handle that.

These are the moments when my body image work really shows up for me, because it is disorienting to see your body change. 

(It’s been especially disorienting to see my body age. It brings up thoughts of my own mortality and occasionally incites my hypochondria, which I am able to notice with less attachment.)

I know that at another point in my life, I would have experienced this disorientation as a problem, as a red flag, as a sign that I was deteriorating in value and must do something, quick! 

Either that, or reject my body entirely as a way of ignoring the lack of control I really have over my weight, shape, and time itself.

I am not telling you that I was without emotion or opinion as I experienced my new reflection.

Part of me felt sad. The passing of time is reflected in our bodies, and the time’s passage has always made me wistful. My body is getting older. There is something about that reality that feels sad.

Part of me felt frustrated. My body is changing and there is nothing I can do about it. 

Part of me felt annoyed. I wasn't prepared to handle that emotion in that moment, and when emotions catch me off guard I get annoyed because I know I need more processing time.

And part of me, in the seconds later, felt proud. I felt more connected to that reflection than I imagined possible, simply because I stayed with it. I did not plan to fix or change it. I simply observed it, felt the feelings about it, and knew that all of that was ok.

I am a human being and I am not chasing youth or thinness. It is a pointless journey that lacks true reward and I have no interest in conditional worth anymore, nor to waste my time with meaningless pursuits. At this point, it makes me feel taken advantage of.

I have looked in the mirror almost every day since then, and while I am not super-psyched every time I look at it, I am not afraid of it, either. 

I’m pretty sure this is what they mean when they say you can detach from your thoughts, and feel your inherent worth.

After four years of body image work (which is a daily practice, not a point of arrival), I am coming to understand the ways in which body acceptance brings me closer to who I am and the life I am actually living more and more everyday.

Staying with yourself, and not rejecting or fixing or ignoring or denying or hating or criticizing or demeaning yourself, is a quiet, quiet moment like this, when you stand at a mirror and accept without attachment. It is a doorway to self-trust and self-reliance. 

Staying, not running, makes me feel like I have my own back, and I think that is what I have been seeking all of this time.