I know a substantial portion of this blog promotes the fact that life is not a fairy tale. However, I do own something that is quite enchanting, and even a bit mystical. Like the Evil Queen in Snow White, I too have a magic mirror hanging on my wall.
What makes the mirror magical? For starters, when I stare into it, I don’t always see my exact reflection staring back. I often see a woman who is bigger than me, and much less attractive. This woman’s clothes never look right, and her face always looks tired and worried. The reflection is confusing and quite hazy. Yet…it’s definitely me.
The mirror talks to me as well. It tells me I’m fat, ugly and sometimes worthless. It mocks my thunder thighs, cankles, and flabby underarms. It takes cheap shots at the winkles on my forehead and graying hair. It ridicules my looks and then blames them for pretty much everything that is wrong with my life, especially my single status.
Isn’t it supposed to be telling me I’m the fairest one of all? What a piece of shit.
I think a lot of woman own this same magic mirror, whether it be hanging in their closet, over the bathroom sink, or tucked away in their purse. How do we all own mirrors with such bad attitudes? And why aren’t we brave enough to just punch the face in this snarky mirror and walk away? (Probably because we know this action will break the mirror and bring us seven years of bad luck… and a whole new set of problems.)
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why do you hate me so?
But seriously, why are so many beautiful, intelligent, accomplished women, (including myself), so messed up when it comes to their looks and self-esteem?
