Reflection

For some reason, the idea of mirrors keeps presenting itself to me. Planted by movie trailers and songs, the word mirror whispers in my ear.

It made me think of Sylvia Plath's "Mirror"  (linked for your reading pleasure). The first time I read it was the year I taught English II for the first time. I was instantly drawn to it, but couldn't help but wonder what the publisher expected a bunch of 15- and 16-year-olds to take from it.  I tried anyway. I failed. Not an epic fail (I think a couple of girls related, but my class was boy-heavy), but not a roaring success.

Yet the poem always sticks with me.

I am not cruel; only truthful. 

 I know that the mirror is an inanimate object, a simple reflection of what stands before it.  But, add the human element, all of the vanity, the obsession with looks, the self-deprecation, and it comes to life.

Confession time.  Although now I try so hard not to pass judgment on people's fashion choices, I have in the past--ok, yesterday at the mall--thought, "I would love to have whatever magic mirror that person does that makes them think they look good."  I think it boils down to jealousy. I'm envious of the confidence, the ability others seem to have to just do their thing without worrying what others think.

I lack that.

Not only do I fall short in the confidence part, I am also my own worse critic. I mean, I am just brutal.
And, every time I think I've escaped that mean girl, she rears her ugly head and just rips me to pieces.

Look at those rolls.
You are so gross.
How did you let yourself get like this?
The veins on your legs are hideous.
Nice cellulite on your arms; now you can't even bare those.
Size 14? Really?
Your neck is flabby.
Your skin is so gross and splotchy. 

 On and on she rants.

As I write this, I remember I posted a blog called Mirror Mirror  (again, linked). It includes a poem that I will end with, words that call out to me and make me wonder when I will learn to finally love myself, flaws and all.

Without Mirrors
Without mirrors we couldn’t see:
     the tiny wrinkle forming on our brow
     the age spots peppering our cheeks
     the unruly, wiry, white eyebrow hair
     the sagging neckline
     the stretching cleavage 
     the cottage cheese cellulite 
     the bluish road map of spider veins.
Without mirrors we’d have to see:
     the us others perceive
     the caring reflection
     the look of love
     the burning desire
     the beautiful glow
     the heart-warming smile
     the wisdom of time.

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