Thursday, June 9, 2011

The mirror

There was a time in the not-too-distant past when I didn't like to look in the mirror. The girl looking back at me was just not how I saw myself. Back then, I thought the difference was the extra weight. I thought I didn't like my reflection, because that girl was the fatty-moo-moo version of me.

Fast forward to now. I'm still carrying extra weight (although a lot less) and I'm still never gonna be the prettiest girl in any room ... but it's so different now, that reflection.

Who I am is what is different.

On Monday morning, I set the alarm and got up early for a run. (Yes, I did that.) I dressed in black active pants and the green t-shirt we got for running the Sweetness 5K last Saturday. I had just woken up, so I wasn't all cutesy-cute girl. And I caught a glimpse of myself in the big mirror in my bedroom.

I actually said, out loud, to my reflection, "Damn, girl ... "

That's right. I totally hit on myself.

Made me smile. And it gave me something to think about on that run. Yes, I've made changes. I've lost some weight. But the real changes have happened inside my head. I've accepted who I am. I've become something more than I was before. And that has given me confidence. It's the confidence I'm seeing in the mirror.

See, when a man like my ex-husband leaves you for the type of woman for whom he left me, ya feel scarred. It seems inevitable that, when faced with the knowledge that He Who Must Not Be Named chose Ursula the Sea Witch to yours truly, I would envision myself as less than she. (I know, I know ... but that's where the mind goes. The dark places.) He wasn't good for me when we were married, but after he left? Then he was horrible for me.

My point, I suppose, is that this has been a five-year process. It was five years ago this month that he packed up his stuff and moved out. Five long years.

Five years of growth and opportunity. Five years of peeling an onion, layer by little layer, to find out what's shakin' inside.

That's not to say that we're done; no, not by a longshot. I am still in the process of becoming, and I hope I always am.

2 comments:

Janie said...

Parfaits, everybody likes parfaits.

Maggie Bieritz said...

Mmmm ... or trifle. I am not to be trifled with, and yet I never met a trifle I didn't like.