Mirror, Mirror, You Don’t Know Me Anymore

Some mornings, I swear my bathroom mirror is gaslighting me. I wake up feeling like a changed person (read: someone who’s finally branched out into the world to try new things), and my reflection still has the nerve to look exactly the same. How rude. 

Beauty culture seems to revolve around that rectangle (or circle) of glass. We’re told to “love the person in the mirror” as if that’s the best advice in the world. If I’m being honest, the mirror doesn’t really know me anymore. It’s just stuck showing the same face with the same hair that may or may not be doing what I told it to (albeit it had been blonde at one point) while the real stuff doesn’t even make the highlight reel.

I’ve started realizing that most of the best “makeovers” in life don’t show up in our reflections. Things like learning how to set boundaries, letting go of grudges and finally forgiving yourself for that one embarrassing thing from 2017 (which I haven’t accomplished yet but tomorrow’s a new day) are examples of things that don’t give you better cheekbones. (Unfortunately.)

Still, we check every day. Maybe we’re hoping to see the progress. Like, “Oh, I finally started therapy! Surely, my pores will thank me for this impressive feat.” Yet, the mirror doesn’t work that way. It’s a little shallow, focusing on what’s on the surface.

That’s why I think beauty needs a rebrand because sometimes the most beautiful part of us isn’t seen by the eye (or in a mirror). You can’t see the newfound sense of peace under foundation. You can’t spot a healed inner child through a new haircut (though it helps). 

I still look, of course. I’m human. I’ll fix my hair (and fail miserably) while maybe practicing a smile that says, “I’ve got it together.” Deep down, I know the mirror’s missing half the story and so do you. 

So next time mine tries to tell me I look “the same,” I might just wink at it and say, “You wouldn’t get it.”

Because honestly, it doesn’t.

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