Mirrors.

When you look in the mirror what do you see? What do you look for? Some days when I look in the mirror, I see a woman who’s learned from her mistakes, and those mistakes have made her strong, and with a beautiful mind and soul. Other days I look in the mirror and I see a girl defined only by her mistakes. And most of the time, I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. The thing is, I used to think mirrors were a source of truth. I could trust what I was looking at because it was through my eyes. But in reality, the girl I used to see in the mirror wasn’t seen through my eyes, it was seen through the lense I created in how I thought others viewed me, I saw myself through traumatized eyes of a confusing childhood, I saw myself through the eyes of someone who didn’t understand her self worth, but the biggest mistake I made, was looking at myself through the eyes of someone seeking perfection and happiness through a mirror.

Perception vs. Reality

The world we live in places an overwhelming amount of emphasis on our bodies. Diet culture has become a $71 billion industry, so no wonder the content they’re pushing out is constantly telling us that the current version of ourselves isn’t enough. Telling young girls that the way to get attention is to idolize the way your body looks. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for body confidence and owning what you’ve got, but there’s a line that gets crossed every day when a little girl notices the attention a woman receives for showing off her body on social media. It teaches girls and women that part of our worth stems from what people view our bodies to be. And growing up constantly being complimented on how ‘skinny’ and ‘fit’ I was, led me to believe that my body is what could get me attention – it’s what would give me that feeling of self-worth and value. The fact of the matter is that I have a fast metabolism and a small frame. I let a fast metabolism and small bones literally define my self-worth because it’s something that I received praise for. As I got older, I would get comments like ‘you’re lucky you can still eat like that, wait till you get older and your metabolism slows down’, or ‘eat that while you still can’, etc., etc., the list of diet comments could go on forever. So of course it makes sense that in a time of my life when I was feeling lost in most other aspects, I capitalized on feeling so in control of my diet and body and avoiding the inevitable weight gain that I was always told would come.

My perception was that the more in-shape I got, the more people would admire me. It’s what I convinced myself that everyone wanted to look like because of the constant whisper in my ear from diet culture telling me that my life would be better if I lost weight. In reality, I was already in shape and all I was doing was eliminating any piece of fat on my body, leaving only small muscles and bones to be outlined by my skin. But when I looked in the mirror, I felt that I was in control of my body. I was in control of my diet. I had reached a size 00 and was so proud that I could fit into the smallest size. Why? It feels like a double edged sword almost because at one end, the adrenaline of reaching another size smaller was exciting. It gave me the immediate satisfaction of my workouts, when I wasn’t really satisfied with anything else in my life that was out of my control. But on the other hand, I was isolating myself so much, that all I really got excited about was fitting into a 00, or another physical sign that I was making progress in my workouts. That’s what an eating disorder does. It takes your perception and turns it into reality, with no ifs, ands, or buts. It’s black and white. For a long time I didn’t see what I truly looked like in the mirror and couldn’t realize how sick I had become. Because when I looked in the mirror, all I could see was the one thing that continued to be in my control. Until I lost control, of course.

I’m sure you’ve heard the term body dysmorphia. If not – it’s essentially capitalizing on parts of your body that you’re insecure about, something that others may not even notice, and your brain basically exaggerates that flaw or insecurity to be the only way you can see yourself. So when I look in a mirror after regaining weight over the last year, it’s really hard to understand who’s there. Because I am most definitely not the same woman I was a year ago, and I can recognize that, but part of my identity has always been my body, and not being able to look in the mirror and trust that the woman looking back at me, is really me, it’s hard. And some days are harder than other, where I look in the mirror and remind myself of every wrong turn I’ve taken in life, every binge episode I’ve had, the days that I didn’t workout, and it’s defeating. However, it’s in my head, and I know that. I know that it takes time to reframe and retrain my brain to use coping mechanisms to deal with those feelings, rather than allowing the more difficult emotions to affect my perception of myself. Essentially, the more anxious or stressed I am, the bigger I feel, and the smaller I want to feel. And that’s when I have to take a step back and remember all the things that recovery has given me back, including weight.

I’m learning that it’s okay to feel a little lost. That when I look in the mirror and get confused by what I see, it’s okay. I know that it may be awhile before I truly understand who I am and the qualities that really make me, me. I know that I’m intelligent, kind, quirky, spazzy, loud, and ambitious. And these things have absolutely nothing to do with my body. So when I look in the mirror, I try to look at my smile lines, or the way that my eyes sparkle when I’m laughing and around people I love. I look at the scars on my body, and inside, that are made up of experiences that have formed me into a woman who can sit here and write her feelings for the world to read (Something I never imagined myself doing, by the way). My inner and outer scars make me beautiful, and my mistakes and wrong turns make me strong. Life is so much more than the boundaries of a mirror, than the boundaries of your physical appearance. I feel so much bigger internally because I can actually feel what life is like – I can let in all of the joy and sadness, and fill myself with excitement and fear. Yeah, I’m restoring weight in recovery and it’s making me physically bigger, but if the consequence to that is being able to breathe in every aspect of life and soak every emotion in, then it’s damn worth it. And I may not recognize myself when I look in the mirror most days, but I think that that’s maybe a good thing. Maybe I’m finally learning that I’m so much more than what a mirror can show me.