My husband's aunt has a marvelous, magical mirror. It is gorgeous and old and elegant.
It hangs at the end of a long main floor hallway, so you watch yourself walk all the way down the hall when you have to visit the loo. But we all love the mirror. Somehow, it squeezes your image to make you taller and thinner. I'm sure Aunt's hallway powder room gets more traffic solely for the purpose of seeing ourselves in the mirror. I've seen groups of women, giggling in front of the mirror. Oh, if we only really looked like that.
My full-length mirrors at home, and the reflection on the car, and the plate-glass windows at the store... they all make me look like the image on the left, I'm sure. Because all I see is my tummy.
That's the tummy that has grown and shrunk and grown and shrunk and accommodated eight different children. And to me, it still looks pretty stretched out with twin skin. Because there was a time when my belly needed its own zip code with two small fry in there. It will never be pre-pubescent flat again. You know what? The rest of me will never be pre-pubescent again, either. And I'm honestly glad about that.
But when all I can see, when I look in the mirror, is the tummy, I miss the rest of me. Like the waist that is thinner now than it has been for five years. Like my broad shoulders. Or my great hair. Wait, that was yesterday's like. I can be happy about my hair again today, can't I?
What part of you is beautiful? Or wonderful? Or strong? Or improving? Look at that for a change, instead of those trouble areas that we tend to hyper-focus on.
Just for today, look in the mirror and admire something about your body. It's pretty amazing, all the things it can do. And smile.