Mirror, Mirror, Shut the Hell Up

Yesterday I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. This wasn’t my home mirror that recognizes and accepts my every move and curve. No, this was a mall mirror just hanging around gawking at passerby. Unlike my home mirror, this mirror judged me: A square bodied, middle aged woman with absolutely no fashion sense. I cringed inwardly and outwardly. What happened to the girl who was once too skinny? What happened to the woman who once dressed in size 10 clothes? What happened to the “while never pretty, not terrible looking” person I used to be?

As I contemplated my missing self over a McAlister’s veggie baked potato smothered in cheddar cheese, a slender, stylishly dressed young mom in her mid-20’s and her adorable daughter sat down at the table next to mine in the mall food court. Being the lonely broad that I am I started a conversation with the little girl. She was three she told me, not in words but by carefully arranging the appropriate number of fingers and holding them up.

Her mom was so proud of her. She told me how smart her little Daneisha was and the little girl demonstrated by singing the alphabet and counting to 20. I was suitably impressed. I told the mom how much I liked her look and about my confrontation with the mall mirror. She said, “But you are a beautiful woman! Look how much Daneisha likes you and she doesn’t like strangers!”

I’m embarrassed to say I got tears in my eyes. The tears are here now as I type this. We aren’t a size. We aren’t a shape. We aren’t a style. We are souls. Mirrors have no business telling us otherwise.

Peace, People

Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats. View all posts by nananoyz