The Mirror and The Scale

How I hate you

The mirror - This flat two-dimensional surface that reflects whatever is in front of it. Where I look multiple times a day. Where I see every flaw. The tiny hairs to pluck. The blemishes that never went away after puberty. The double chin. The hair that does nothing. The curves that aren’t flattering. Stretch marks decades old. Pale skin that will never hold a tan.  In my eyes I can see the disappointment in myself. I can see my lack of self-control. I can see all the ways I’m not the woman I wish I was. The woman the world wishes I was.

The scale - This hidden device is pulled out for only one reason: to measure me against the norm. To show me the number that goes up even when I try to do right. The number that determines the number on my clothes. The number that tells me I’m too much, and therefore not enough. The weight in my heart is heavier than the weight on the scale. 

No two items have ever caused more damage to an individual on a daily basis. And even if the scale can be avoided, the mirror more than makes up for it - using your car windows, computer screen, and reverse camera to catch you off guard and keep you discouraged over and over throughout the day. Every day.

I hate these two items more than any others. And they hate me. They are not kind, but brutally honest. There is no compliment before ruining my day. Any attempt at recovering from their judgement is futile most days.

So I struggle. I struggle to break the cycle with negative self-talk. I struggle with self-love. I struggle to face the day when I see what others will see as soon as I leave this room.

But the mirror doesn’t reflect everything. It can’t reflect the smiles exchanged with others. It doesn’t record all the kisses from my husband. It never plays back all the laughter. It doesn’t keep a record of hugs from my children. It cannot show the prayers I pray for others. 

And the scale cannot measure everything. It cannot know the number of my IQ or bank account or credit score. It does not measure the depth of my relationships or the distance I’d go for my loved ones. It was not designed to weigh the burdens of a mother’s love or a wife’s faithfulness. 

These two items can only do one thing each - report what’s visible on the outside. They show so little of what makes up a person. They may show a beautiful body, but cannot indicate a person’s character, education level, work ethic, talents, loyalties, prejudices, morals, or beliefs. 

The most important things that make up a person are unable to be measured by these two devices. And yet we live by them daily, accepting their information as weighing more than all the other things that make us unique and special and valuable. As if the size of our waist is more important than how we treat others. As if the thinning hair or crooked teeth make us less attractive than the words we throw at others on social media. 

I don’t know how to break the cycle for me. I do know that reminding myself of my other attributes is imperative if I am to find my smile in my reflection. What I am on the outside is NOT the sum of who I am as a person. Who you are on the outside is NOT the sum of who you are as a person. 

One of my favorite movies is Shallow Hal. I wish society would take more time to invest in the inner qualities and reward those than to make others feel worthy and worthless for differing levels of attractiveness. The mental health of average people is suffering. And the ego of above average people is staggering. There's also a song by Barlow Girl called Mirror.  One of the lyrics is "you don't define me."  And that's where I'm making my stand.

 

The image in the mirror is not my beginning and end.

 

The number on the scale is not my beginning and end.

 

I am more than these two devices.  And so are you.