Week 4ever: Oh, the Places My Gaze Will Go

My reasoning for not writing a reflection at the conclusion of my #monthwithoutmirrors last week is twofold: 1. the week was busier than I have been used to in awhile. therefore, I enjoyed sitting on my couch not doing anything or talking to anyone a bit much when I returned home each night. 2. I wanted to wait awhile to compare my return to mirror-less existence to this past month as well as life before.

Sweet, holy mother of pearl! 

The mirror is annoying.

It's not completely unnecessary but almost. Sort of like salad dressing. We think it's a wonderful thing to have and that in the name of all things good and holy we can't live without it...until we end up at work with no dressing and al our work buddies brought not-salads and OH NO! Oh, yes. You'll be just fine. In fact, you'll be able to taste your salad not just your salad dressing. Fancy that. 

By no means am I advocating for us all to frolic into the streets, mirrors in hand and smash away our reflections. No, no, no. Please use the mirror to help you pluck your eyebrows and put on eyeliner and check for panty lines. These things are a decent part of feminine existence. And guys, please watch yourself while shaving and make sure your crack stays in your pants and before you leave the house, please! please! please! check that you're not wearing stripes and plaid together. These things are also a decent part of feminine existence. Yeah. 

Please someone, explain to me why on god's green earth I find it necessary to check myself in the mirror when I'm about to head out running. Why?! If I pick clothes out of my closet, why do I stand in front of the mirror as if to ask "is this acceptable' or 'does this look okay'? I'm a pretty competent human being. I think I can put clothes on my body in an acceptable manner...but perhaps not. Something deep in my psyche seems to disagree.  

In the past week, I think I've realized I'm looking in the mirror hoping for reassurance that I appear the way I want...determined by what the world has told me I should want. It's completely arbitrary and yet controlling. Remember my rant about the 000 clothing size at J. Crew? Same concept here combined with the concept I chatted about week 2 regarding my inner chatter, my inner appearance being unchanged. If I appear confident, perhaps I will become confident. 

If I appear competent, perhaps I will become competent. If I appear fulfilled, perhaps I will become fulfilled. If I appear ______, perhaps I will become _______. Let's remember what I learned at my very first collegiate swim camp: the body achieves what the mind believes. Though I believe there's truth in that regarding athletic performance and even a tad relating to life-performance, I strongly dislike the 'fake it till you make it' mentality and I realized this appear-->become crap is exactly that. HOLY DANG! I'm doing exactly the thing I despise. Grrrrrrrrrrr. #thanksnothanks My issue with 'fake it till you make it' is that it tells you that you're not enough as you are and that someday, after a lot of hard work, you will be enough. False. No. Wrong. Lies. Deception. My tent has its stakes hammered down in the land of 'relax. you have enough. you do enough. you are enough.' 

Legit posted in my journal, next to my mirror, and on my door.

It seems I'm needing to live a mirror-lite existence. The full-length mirror in my room is going to live under a shroud for awhile to help me figure out this intentionality...a little barrier between my mirror-happy psyche and reality. I vote that what I bring to the world is already in me, I just have to find it and share it. Cool bros.