Sometimes it’s hard to look at myself in the mirror. I think most women have experienced that feeling: at just a glance, you can see all the flaws that you know stand out like a sore thumb, that you feel for sure are the only things other people see when they look at you.
We have so many images thrown at us of what we are supposed to look like, of what we are supposed to want for ourselves, of what people should admire when they see it in others. And I don’t know who wrote those rules, but those rules are very powerful and persuasive and relentless. And when I look at myself, either briefly or deeply, I don’t see those prized characteristics that I’m supposed to be striving for.
It doesn’t matter what we’re talking about—hair, skin, body shape, style—I don’t have it, not like I’m supposed to. And I know I don’t have what I’m supposed to have because I’ve been told so loud and clear. There are a million different products that have been invented to fix me, and I hear and see how much of me truly needs fixing on the commercials, in magazines, on billboards, just walking through the aisles of the grocery store. I can’t escape the pictures, the messages, the marketing campaigns aimed at educating me about my flaws and how I can and should correct them.
And the most pervasive message of all seems to be that I need to lose weight. If I’m chunky, I probably need to lose thirty to forty pounds. If I’m thin, I just need to lose that little lump of fat on my belly that no one can even see except me. If I’m a young adult woman, I just need to get back to my high school weight, and if I’m a new mother, I can aim for my pre-pregnancy weight. And when I am an older woman going gray and experiencing menopause, the goal will be to look or feel more like my younger self in any way possible, even if it’s just losing that extra five pounds.
So I know, instinctively, without even having to give it a second thought, that I should be eating differently, eating less, dieting, portion-controlling, and for sure keeping track of every bite of food that goes into my mouth. And I have to exercise, not to feel healthy or strong or more alive, but to help me lose the extra weight because being fat feels ugly. And the thing I hate most is feeling ugly. And I’ve already been thoroughly convinced that I am probably at least a little bit ugly. That’s why I have to fix myself.
Or do I? Because more and more often when I look in the mirror, I feel really different. I see other characteristics in myself that I didn’t used to notice so much. Like I’ve realized that I actually like my body better with round, squeezable curves than with bony, stick-like limbs.
And lately I’ve realized that when I wear make-up, I don’t really recognize myself, and I don’t look better, really. Maybe I’m just really bad at putting on make-up, but why do I actually need it? My real face is growing on me, and I think I want to keep it.
And then on days when I have a lot of extra energy, I find myself wanting to exercise, not to make me skinny, but because it makes me feel strong and powerful and alive. And on days when I’m worn out and tired, I don’t have to make myself exercise because it doesn’t actually matter that much.
And when I choose what to eat each day, I’m finding myself asking myself more and more what sounds good instead of what should I be eating? And I eat things that make me feel happy from the inside out because they nourish me and fulfill me and make me feel beautiful and content. And it really is okay that these foods that are filling have some fat in them because my body knows what to do with that.
Maybe that’s the main thing I’m learning, slowly, day by day, is that my body can be trusted. It’s not my enemy; it’s not out to get me. If I love it and cherish it, it will love me back. I don’t gain anything by demeaning or punishing or depriving my body. Hating my body will never make me feel happier or more content, no matter how hard I work to fix it. My body doesn’t need fixing. My body, my self, my whole being is beautiful just the way it is, no matter what anyone else says. And I’m going to fight every day to keep believing that.
