Sunday, June 6, 2010

Mirror, mirror ... on the wall

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At this stage in the game, I have an adversarial relationship with all things reflective. I go out of my way to avoid full length mirrors, store front windows, dressing rooms...you get the picture. Now, before you start worrying about me, I don't go off to work without taking a glance in the mirror in the bathroom. The mirror above the sink...you know...the one who shows my reflection approximately to my collar bones. I rely on my husband to let me know if the region from collar bones to toes looks ridiculous. (Really...think about what a risk this is.)

I don't know exactly when my mirror and I began to fight. What I do know is that I started placing all the blame on the reflective surface rather than the "reflectee" (me.) Last August, my family and all of my parents (both original and step versions) travelled to the Cape for vacation. The mirror in the beach house bathroom was quite a bit lower than the one at home. On the first day of vacation, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "Daaaaamn..." I thought "This mirror is weird. Makes me look really thick around the middle, not like the mirror at home."

Ummm...that mirror at home...remember, stops at the collar bones....misses out on the "middle" section entirely. What did I think? That the mirror was broken or something? Needed new batteries? I am not even going to mention the fact that it didn't really dawn on me what the truth was until TWO months later in October when Mike and I went to the beach house for our anniversary.

The point of this tale is not to prove how dense I can be sometimes. I have MANY more stories that prove that point. The point of this story is that I would truly love to make up with my mirror and start our friendship anew. This is going to take a lot of work on my part...I have many amends to make, but it is my hope that come this August, that beach house mirror and I will be on a little friendlier terms.

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