Mirror, Mirror...

....on the wall? No, not this time. This reflects all mirrors, windows, et al—anything around me that mirrors my reflection. I will immediately and purposely turn away to not catch a glimpse of myself. Why? Because when I see that manifestation, it only saddens me and makes me feel inadequate, as well as hideous. Harsh, I know, but it's how I feel during that moment in time. I can't stand looking at myself in the mirror. I know there are times where we must look at ourselves in the mirror, but for me, I no longer do that in a vanity sort of way. I only do it when necessary, and even then it's limited. For example, while I'm getting my hair cut, I can't look at myself in the mirror staring out in front of me—I have to sit with my head hanging down as I try and not catch a glimpse.

What I see when I look into that mirror is someone who is aging and someone who is no longer what I was once considered, beautiful. At least in my eyes. My husband tells me repeatedly how beautiful I am, but for now, it means nothing. I don't believe him, I only brush it off as what a husband should say to his wife. To his sad, aging wife. He's biased, you see. He loves me, so of course he's going to tell me this, right?

Not sure.

Even as I sit here writing this blog post, I can see my reflection from the screen of my computer and I hate what I'm seeing. My hair is wet, my hair is curly and I have no makeup on at all—just me, in the raw (with clothes on, of course). I was never one of those women who had to always put makeup on when I left the house. I never understood those kinds of women. I'd play tennis against them and they would wear full makeup, bejeweled with their everyday jewelry and their hair elegantly styled. Me? I'm different; I was different. I was one of those women who had my hair up in a ponytail, not a drop of makeup (except for lip balm), no jewelry or anything while running around on the court in an attempt of triumph. I just wanted to play tennis. I didn't care how I looked, it was a matter of a sport, not fashion or vanity. I was the same with skiing. I remember going to Vermont on a holiday ski trip with my cousin while in college, and even then, I didn't have a spot of makeup on, but my cousin? That was a different story, she had full makeup adorned and her hair was beautifully done. She looked stunning, but for the mountain? I just never understood women like that.

Hey, to each their own right?

It's just not me. Never has been, and even today, never will be. Don't get me wrong, I like wearing makeup now, I just know when it's a good time to wear it, and the tennis court and ski mountain is not one of them. At least for me it's not. Nothing against women who choose to display themselves like this during a workout or sport, of course. I know everyone is different. Therefore, I do not judge.

But after all these years of walking around with only lipstick touching my face, I've grown a lot more insecure than I ever have been in my life. I've quickly realized in the past few years that wearing makeup is used to try and conceal my aging, not enhance my so-called beauty. I've always been an insecure person, but now as I've gotten older, it's gotten significantly worse. I can tell. I hate it, I really do. I thought I'd be one of those women who'd "grow old gracefully" like my beautiful mother, but apparently I can't seem to adhere to this old saying that we've come so accustomed to hearing and repeating.

After many years of smiling happily and proudly as the subject of many photographs, I will no longer allow anyone to take my picture, even though I once loved it. I have hundreds of photos looking back at me as I posed in front of the camera as if it was just me by myself. Nowadays, I'm the one taking the pictures, therefore no longer the subject of one.

My husband thinks I'm just going through a 'mid-life crisis,' but I don't see it that way. Maybe for the most part, he's right. I know deep down in my heart there's more to it than just a mid-life crisis. However, I do know that it contributes to my feelings of inadequacy, but  does not affect me completely. At least I don't think so. My husband might express something different entirely.

My life has turned into a hidden demonstration of everything surrounding me. Including my physical appearance. 

Yesterday my husband told me how beautiful I looked and how good I looked in a certain outfit I was wearing. Is he trying to give me uplifting words of encouragement, or just truly believes what he's saying? I know for the most part, he believes what he's saying. Why else would he have married me if not attracted to me, right? Of course he would never tell me otherwise.

Overall, I know I need to get over these feelings of defensiveless repulsion, but the underlying question is, will I ever? Will I ever accept that I'm getting older and just embrace it? Or will I continue to fall deep into a dark slump until it's too late? Not to repeat myself, but for this situation, only time will tell. I believe at this time, that changing my medication for the OCD will be better for me and will be extremly beneficial, but should I risk the replacement of the depression medicine as well? Like my 'drug dealer,' I believe it'll enable me to move forward and diminish these feelings of physical inadequacy. I know for the most part these feelings are egocentric at best, but I know I will need to quite simply, get over it.

Again, I must try.

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