Well, it doesn't work out so well.
One fine day, not so long ago, my trusty mirror (a stand-up, leaning against the wall in the bathroom that I've had since high school mirror) decided to take a dive in the bathtub but missed and broke it's little face. I felt sorry for it, to be honest.
And I have to admit right here and now that there is something about a broken mirror that I love. I think there is a deeper meaning behind it, like my mirror is trying to tell me something subliminally. Or, not so subliminally.
Now, I know what you're thinking: "Oh god, here comes a most likely sappy and bitter feminist rant."
Eh, not really. I just think it's easy to forget what it means to be valued in this world and in the contours of your own fickle mind even, and that the word "beautiful" has been watered down to represent something that isn't quite relatable or real.
Everyone struggles with self-efficacy, self-image, self-confidence, self-worth, self self blah blah again and again all day long and into the dawn. That, to me, is one problem. Why do we constantly think about ourselves?
Quite honestly, it has taken me a long time realize the terrible and wonderful truth that other people are not thinking about you. You are thinking about you. They are not scrutinizing that zit that decided to sprout over night that you think has taken over your entire face, or that your hair is slightly greasy because you were too damn tired to take a shower that morning because you stayed up too late watching Lost with your husband. (Okay, I am really really guilty of that last one). That nose of yours that's 'slightly angular'? The one that makes you extremely self-conscious in social situations and at times (even though you're ashamed to admit it) has caused you to shy away from certain friendships or relationships? Yeah. I am here to tell you that I am 99.99999% sure nobody else notices these little 'details' but you. And that one teeny little tenth of a percent that does, is most likely just an asshole anyway.
I am the worst example of this. Not being an asshole I mean, but I have been known to not go out on a weekend night or to work because I felt too fat, I was having a bad skin day, felt like nobody liked me, just didn't feel good enough about myself or interesting enough for someone to invest their time into, or I literally just had severe anxiety about having to talk to people in general. I guess introversion doesn't help. But I do know that the way in which you choose to view yourself runs deep; it flows with such a great weighty sadness that it fills the rivers and pools of your veins and into your heart, and soon you will drown in a wilted world that you've created.
Sometimes I wish that I could be this. Naked, exposed, wearing a unicorn mask on a beach somewhere. How wonderful would that be if we could all be this?! There would be no stigmas, no judgements or condemnations. It would be the bare bones of existence, beauty in it's most raw form, and you know what? I bet we would never think about ourselves. I'd probably be thinking about how the rain feels dancing against my bare skin during a naked jaunt in a wild storm, or how I am so connected to the very roots of existence and fiery core of the earth that I feel the thunder roar in my bones.. or that that unicorn head mask is getting really sweaty.
But really, I want to go back to the start- before there were standards and societal norms painfully etched into my psyche. I want the bare bones of it all, because when one is stripped of all predetermined flaws and harsh ridicule, shortcomings and everything tangible bad feeling, that's really all that's left.
I exist as I am, and that is enough.
I digress. I really just wanted to say that I know it's damn near impossible not to think about yourself, because you are a living breathing being and yourself is the only self you really pretend to know. But try not to think about yourself too much- the fussing, worrying, self-deprecating part of it anyway. I can't even imagine how many opportunities I've lost because of doing and being those things, and it's all because I put myself in a corner. You teach people how to treat you, and if you can't even treat yourself with the respect of human decency and acceptance, than who will respect you; who will accept you? Also, there's no definite meaning of beauty. It is all around us, hiding in every crevice, hill and dale, watery eye and whiskery smile. So choose to be the kind of beautiful that you would be proud of inside. And maybe, if you feel like it, look at yourself in a cracked mirror sometime.
I exist as I am, and that is enough.
