Go look in the mirror, now!
Is that urgent enough for you? I’m serious. Go look in the mirror! Now! You need to go look because you have some work to do. Are you there yet?
Okay, look at yourself. Look at yourself objectively. Don’t do like I do and just look into your eyes. Look at you, the whole picture.
Start at the top. What’s the story of your hair? Are you happy with it? Does it complement you? Does it go with the rest of you? Are you happy with the color? Does the cut reflect you? Look!
If you’re like me, you have two people looking back at you out of the mirror. There’s your physical self. And then there is your soul.
For instance, I’m going gray. I have always had dark hair and I am dark complected. But this gray is washing me out. I never knew what people meant when they talked about being washed out. I never had that issue. But I do now. And I don’t like that look.
My mother made me cut my hair throughout my life. I got the worst hair from my mother and my father. So I have really thin, wavy hair. It looks a lot better short. But I was raised in the 70’s and have always wanted long, blond, voluptuous hair. I reasoned with myself that gray was another color for blond, right. I mean some gray is platinum. So I made up my mind not to cut or color my hair any more. But it made me look old, and like an old hippy. So I made myself a deal. I could have long hair but I had to color it. Or I didn’t have to color it but then I couldn’t have it long.
So look at you. Are you happy with your cut and color. If not, what is it that you want? What kind of cut and color would the person you want to be have?
Move down. What’s going on with your face? How is your skin? How is your coloring? Do you wear make-up? Do you need to? Do you look like a made-up doll or washed out, again? My grandmother always was made-up. I’m lucky if I put on mascara. A couple of weeks ago I was going to a party and put on make-up. I got two compliments right in a row. By the time of the second one I told them that I should wear make-up more often. Maybe I should. But is that the person I want to be? Probably. It just takes me a lot of time to put it on.
There are so many products out there that help you look your best. It doesn’t hurt to use them.
What else. Neck up, what else?
Okay, neck down.
Now, most of us are not happy with our body. And then there is the change brought on by age, by weight loss or weight gain. More importantly, how well do your clothes fit you? Do you have a serious muffin top? Do your slacks sag? I’m not a stylist. I’m not a fashionista. But I do know that if you don’t look good in your clothes you’re not going to feel good.
I laugh at myself all the time when I catch my reflection in a mirror at the mall. I look at that lady and think “Hey, I know her. I like her.” Then I realize that it is me. It always freaks me out. You see, in my mind, I’m about 25. I’m a size 6. I’ve got that long, voluptuous hair. I don’t wear glasses. But reverse all of that for the reality.
Reality sucks.
In reality I’m short and stocky. This year I lost 45 lbs, but I’m still short and stocky. I did get rid of the spare tire that was all the way around. But I found out that when I lost that weight my boobs lost their support. I had to buy new bras. That joke about your boobs down to your knees, that’s not a joke, it’s reality. I mean, I remember being asked during a mammogram if my boobs had “laid down” yet. I looked at the lady like she was crazy. Yeah, not anymore.
My whole life I wanted to wear glasses. My whole life. But then, right before I turned 40 I couldn’t see anymore. So I had to get glasses. Now I hate them. The good thing is that my opthamologist has told me that in a couple of years I’ll need cataract surgery so I’ll be able to throw my glasses away. I’m saving up for the surgery.
I always had great boobs. Yeah, you know, I’ve already told you, they’re now down to my knees. But not just that. I always had great cleavage. Great cleavage. Well, now, I have wrinkled cleavage. It’s gross. And my neck is all wrinkled. People talk about turkey necks. I get that now. Yuck.
I remember when Oprah was at her thinnest she complained about the excess, loose skin on her upper arms. I thought “how vain can she be”? I remember my grandmother had that problem. We called them “grandma arms”. But Oprah didn’t want to have plastic surgery to remove them. I can appreciate that. I have them. I have them bad. But I have decided that they would be great places for tattoos. I think they should be tattooed with bat wings. My girlfriend thinks they should be tattooed with angel wings. She’s probably right. What about fairy wings?
And so it goes. All the way down. I have pads of something above my knees. My ankles swell whenever they want. As do my feet. I have given up on my abdomen. I mean, I have had 4 kids, 3 of them by c-section. I don’t care what the doctors tell you, a c-section is not kind to your abdomen.
A lot of this I can cover up. Some I really have to decide if I am going to do anything about. For instance, my hair. The other day somebody commented that I couldn’t be 40 yet. I wanted to reach across the table and kiss them square on their lips. A woman in her mid-50’s likes hearing stuff like that. And I don’t think they were lying or wanting to make me feel good. I’m sure it’s because I had my hair colored.
I don’t need to look in the mirror to see what is on the inside. I know what is there. I do look in the mirror at times though and have a frank conversation with myself. Sometimes you just need that eye-to-eye contact. No, my insides and I are quite comfortable in our relationship. And the more I look at myself in the mirror, and make decisions about the way I look, the more comfortable I am with the woman looking back at me. I know her, she’s nice.