At a recent visit to my Dermatologist, he pointed between my eyebrows and said, “We can take care of those with Botox …” He handed me a mirror and left the room.
I sat staring at my forehead lines gained from years of thinking, contemplating, squinting into my computer.
After what felt like an eternity, the assistant came in and asked if I wanted to go ahead with the Botox.
“No,” I said. “I like these lines.”
“You do not like them,” she laughed mockingly.
“Goodbye,” I said, getting up. I go in for my annual visit to make sure my skin is OK, that the new spots are cancer-free, and I leave feeling small because I don’t want to have facial injections. SHEESH!
It played on me though. Over the next several days, I found myself at the mirror staring obsessively at the “flaws” I’d never seen before. Suddenly I looked old and tired. And while I was tearing myself apart, I noticed how fat I’d gotten. “I’m disgusting,” I thought.
I couldn’t sleep. I grabbed my belly fat and silently screamed at myself.
Feeling a bit otherworldly, as you will without sleep, an idea popped into my head. “What if I don’t look in a mirror for a month?”
I got up and Googled A MONTH WITHOUT A MIRROR. Several articles came up.
Winona Dimeo-Ediger tried it. She says, “You will be nicer to your body. When you’re not constantly examining your body for flaws, it’s much easier to stop obsessing about how your body looks and focus instead on how your body feels.”
Autumn Whitefield-Madrano , a devotee of a month-without-a-mirror says, “Unburdened from some of my self-imposed (and likely invented) expectations, I realized exactly how much of my energy was going into appearing. Appearing to be interested, appearing to be womanly, appearing to be a professional, appearing to be pretty.”
If I were the last person on earth, would I look in a mirror and lament the extra pounds or the lines that are the map of my face? No. Would I be caught up in appearances? Nope.
Not ready to commit to a month without a mirror (job interviews would be a little funky), I’m trying a week.
I shrouded my mirrors and almost instantly a weight has lifted.
I feel my body and hear its needs.
Hungry; I feed myself. Thirsty; I get a drink. I take quick walks to re-energize. I wear clothes that are comfy.
For years I have failed to honor my body’s needs, caught up in appearing. I have let the story I create in front of the mirror depress me or impress me, depending on how my hair worked out or how my pants fit.
Mirrors covered, I’m getting looks that tell me my hair is out of control or my clothes are outrageous combinations! My reputation as well-put-together has been dashed, but I’m still standing..
I’m at ease, I’m comfortable, and I like the way I feel.