Monday, May 19, 2014

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall



Mirrors around the house and a room make it appear and feel bigger.

I was given such home décor advice sitting in a penthouse suite on the top floor of Hyde Park Tower Apartments---overlooking Lake Michigan. I will never forget how elegant and pristine it felt. The advice was accurate; the room looked 4 times bigger than it was. Mirrors from top to bottom covered the front room, forcing my reflection upon me.

My reflection.

I don’t have an upscale apartment that has a breathtaking view, at least not yet but I do try to keep the mirror advice in play. 5 mirrors are randomly placed around my bedroom; once again, forcing me to face my reflection on a daily basis---even when I am not trying to.

I spend a lot of time in front of mirror. I am both skilled and perfecting my skills in makeup, hair and fashion. So being in the mirror is part of the job. If I were to estimate the actual time in a day, it would be 3 hours at least. 3 x 7= 21 hours (roughly). I say roughly because there is no telling how much time I spend in front of the mirror critiquing, doubting and second-guessing---it feels like forever. 

Damn the mirror!

         

Two things prevent us from happiness: living in the past and observing others.”

I had come across this on Pinterest while fighting off boredom. I have a board specifically dedicated to “words”: “Trust. And. Believe”. Yet this particular quote stuck with me; so much so that I jotted it down in my journal because somewhere in those “words” was a story—my story.

I’ve stated many times before:
The most confident are the most doubtful”.

I’ve never seen it, I’ve never heard it instead it came from my heart and from my own experiences. The experience of being so misunderstood under the light of so many unfounded assumptions is one I know all too well.

Thank God for my sister, who sees more than anyone else ever will be allowed to. She has a backstage pass to my life, to my worries, to my fears and my insecurities and never once has she judged me.
Just because she doesn’t judge me doesn’t mean she won't voice her annoyance. And nothing else annoys her more than my constant questioning of my appearance.

Does this look okay? Do I look like I am trying to hard? Does this lipstick go with this eye? Do I look fat? Should I change my shoes?” Her responses are simply: “Yes. No. Yes. No. No.

It’s never enough for my satisfaction.

No, seriously, do I look okay?

          

It wasn’t until she began answering the question with a very stern, “Yes, you look so fat” (in efforts to teach and show me a lesson) that I began to understand that I had a problem, a complex.  

I tend to be very insecure about my appearance.

If you follow my multiple social media accounts, you see that I post selfies constantly---showcasing and self-promoting. And if you are human, you can’t help but judge a book by its cover. 

How can a woman, such as me, be insecure about my appearance?
I am a former “fat girl” with a childhood full of wishes to wake up one day and be pretty, if not downright beautiful and have the admiration of those I have watched from the shadows.  I would go out of my way to make myself less appealing and more invisible. Shirts that were 3 sizes over; jeans that were too big and un-ironed; my hair always brushed up into a pinned up pony-tail.  I set out to achieve this appearance because it was the only one I felt fit me, it was the only one I felt comfortable presenting.

I didn’t deserve anything better I told myself.

          

Fast forward to now.

I am now an intelligent, engaging, attractive woman with beautiful features. This is not pride, this is truth. And because of that truth, my doubt and insecurity seems so out of place.

I have lost that “fat girl” weight but I still have a delusion when I stand in front of the mirror.  I still see that girl who felt so ugly and so unwanted; and no matter how many people praise my beauty or tell me how attractive I am, sometimes I just don’t see it.

It all feels like a lie.

I don’t have the “typical” woman body. I am 6 feet tall, with the measurements of 38-33-42, the biggest cup size I wear is a G and I am most comfortable in a size 12-14. So no, I do not have the typical “dream girl” stature.

I am an Amazon.

When I walk into a room, there is no denying my presence, no matter how much I want to blend in, no matter how much I want to be looked past. And because of that automatic attention, worry is not far behind. I sometimes suffer from public anxiety—running to the bathroom to check my makeup, my hair, and my clothes---in the mirror.

So please believe me when I say that the anxiety is real.

            

The anxiety comes from comparing myself to others and others standards. I can either see that as a negative or a positive. The negative is quite apparent but what could possibly be positive about such action?

The reason there is so much anxiety consuming me is because of my desire and my passion to be an example to others, an inspiration. Working as a teacher in my hometown, that is more urban than rural—it would surprise most to know that many of the younger generation want so desperately to be led by example. They want someone to mimic, to follow, and to look up to. Hence the major effect that media has taken upon them.

Lil Wanye and Nicki Minaj are the most popular idols these days.

There is so much huff and puff about what needs to be done. There are plenty of heated debates on what action to take and how to execute it. There is so much time and money being invested in the influence over people but the best and most efficient way that I know to send a message is by using one’s self. The best advertisement and billboard is the one we occupy.

Why am I so doubtful? Why am I so worried about my appearance? Why am I so highly critical of myself when there seems no reason to be?

I only have one chance to make a good impression. I, like everyone else, have only one time around in life to set an example and I take that option very seriously and hold it close to my heart. Because that former “fat girl” needs to know she is appreciated and her tears and woes were not in vain. She has more worth and influence than she ever knew.



Yours Truly,
@BMynroe

(RaChelle-Denise)

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