Mirrors are strange things. Sure, on the physical level, they merely allow light to bounce off the silvery backing and into your eyes. But what you see in the mirror is filtered through your faculties of perception. Your eyes may let the light in, but you “see” with your mind. And so what you see when you look in the mirror is not necessarily a “real” or “objective” view of yourself. What you think, you see.
For someone with depression or anxiety issues or body issues, mirrors can be horrible things. I’ve learned to ignore them, as spending time looking in them meant looking at someone who, at some level, I deeply disliked and was deeply disappointed in. I criticized every scar, bump, blackhead, scraggly hair, wrinkle. I saw them as bright, neon signs showing the world how sad and pathetic I was.
Last night, though, I looked and saw a fierce, strong woman with long hair striped in silver. I saw a Jade Fox, long hair streaming, eyes confident and defiant. I saw a Jackie Chan smile, warm with a mischievous glimmer.
For the first time in a long time, I was happy with what I saw in the mirror.