Today I cleaned my mirror. I’m not talking about toothpaste stains or hairspray residue. I’m talking about all the words and pictures my friends have scribbled on my triple mirror over the years. Poems, lyrics to songs, drawings of animals, personal messages to me, the four agreements…. things I’ve left up for years. Perhaps I thought if I let the scribbles get thick enough I wouldn’t have to look in the mirror and see myself- the grey hair, the double chin, crows feet, laugh lines so deep you could plant seeds in them.
No matter how many friends scribbled on my mirror, I could still see myself. But strangely enough, with time I began to see myself through the eyes of my friends. Where I saw the laugh lines, they saw the big mouth that told them stories and made them laugh. I saw the crowsfeet, they saw crinkly, smiling eyes. I saw the love handles turn into a muffin top and most of the time they didn’t much notice.
More and more, I started to see myself through the filter of their friendship, and those filters softened the edges a bit.
Don’t get me wrong- I still have grey hair, the wrinkles are there, the laugh lines get deeper.
I’m just getting a little better at overlooking the insignificant stuff. I still need a lot of work but I’m trying.
So today I scrubbed three or four years worth of scribbles off my mirror. I love each and every person that wrote on that mirror and I loved each and every thing they had to say. I’m just tired of looking at myself through the mess.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking at myself through the softened filters of my friends.
And it also doesn’t mean I’m going to stop dying my damn hair.