Dear Reflection | A Letter of Reconciliation

"When you're different, sometimes you don't see the millions of people who accept you for who you are. All you notice is the person who doesn't." - Jodi Picoult

Dear Reflection,

We haven't always gotten along, you and I. I don't remember a time that I enjoyed looking at you. From my earliest years, I can recall avoiding mirrors at all costs, some deeply-ingrained aversion to the girl who was staring back at me, keeping me at bay. I can't put my finger on a specific event that brought on this thought process, but there has always been the feeling that I wasn't enough. Wasn't deserving. Wasn't worthy of love, including my own.

Maybe it was the way my mother saw her own reflection. Perhaps she muttered under her breath some comments to that woman looking at her, thinking I was too young to hear them, let alone understand or repeat them. Maybe it was how I didn't look like any of my young friends who seemed to adore their own looking glasses, pretending to be living Barbie dolls, donning ruffled dresses, and slathering on makeup to make themselves look pretty. After all, Ken was drawn to the woman who embraced hot pink lips, blue eyeshadow, and had a distorted size zero figure.

Whatever the case may be, I spent most of my life hating you. The dark emotional burden I carried with me into my teenage years drove me to an eating disorder, and the contempt grew deeper and darker. Eventually, I was not only disgusted by the way I looked but by the person I was on the inside. My pain was so great that it drove me to physically harm myself. This quickly became my favorite pastime.

The story of our relationship has been hard and bleak, but it won't have a sad ending. After thirty-five years, I decided to put down the boxing gloves and start seeing myself through the eyes of someone who loved me. He told me who he saw. He told me the truth. He showed me the beauty that he witnessed, not only in my outward appearance but also in my heart and thoughts and words. And I carry his words with me every single day.

Sometimes you have to look at yourself vicariously - through the lens through which another person views you. Maybe that's the only way I would have been able to stop seeing myself for what I was lacking and start seeing who I was. Who I had the potential to be.

Learning to love you has been a difficult journey. Although I will never be the girl who will be able to spend hours in front of a mirror, I'm learning to see the things that make me special instead of the flaws. I see the body that's endured and carried me through tough times and has been a safe harbor when the grief of this world has been too much to bear. A body that allows me to get out of bed and pursue my dreams every day. A faulty body, but still a worthy one.

I see a heart that is open and cares deeply, is easily wounded but resilient. A heart that is always hopeful no matter how many times it's been broken. I see a mind that is complex and deep - dark, yes, but is no longer afraid to let the light in. I see a woman who is enough. Who is deserving. Who is worthy of love. Even her own.

With unconditional love,

Yourself