It’s impossible not to check mirrors. Not out of vanity, rather it’s obsessive-compulsive–I need to know how I look at all moments: are my bangs in place? my lipstick reapplied? my jeans sitting right? Without this assurance brought by constant “mirror checks,” I have this nagging inner voice telling me there’s a hundred imperfections I’m not noticing nor bothering to correct, and that forces me to check the mirror yet again, even if I had done so minutes prior. It’s cyclical, and beyond draining.
But checking mirrors does more than simply assure that I look “my best.” Every time I go to look at my reflection I criticize something different. Maybe it’s how I feel my clothes don’t look as good on my body as they did the last time I checked the mirror, or how my nose seemingly looks bigger and my cheeks chubbier. Mirror checks hold intense judgment; they’re inundated with self-criticisms that take turns throwing punches at my confidence as it lies weakened and unprotected, leaving me self-conscious and utterly defeated. Mirrors had depleted my self-esteem, yet at the same time, I couldn’t seem to stop looking at them.
In the last few weeks of my Senior year, I began attending an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) for a few hours every day. At the IOP, one of my goals was to better the relationship with my body, which meant I’d need to limit my compulsive mirror checks and work on lessening the self-judgments made when looking at my reflection (particularly with no makeup on). To be completely honest, I wasn’t “cured” after these few weeks in the IOP; in fact, I still do these behaviors relatively often, and working with body image continues to be a significant therapy goal of mine. But there was one exercise I did that I found relatively impactful, and as I thought more about this blog post, this exercise has become something I hope to implement as much as possible in the future.
The exercise holds a simple goal: look at yourself, objectively. Confused? I was, too. But with some guidance, I found that looking objectively meant to look without judgment–to simply notice. Maybe you see a mole, birthmark, or freckle. Maybe you look at your eyes, noticing the color and shape. Maybe you have an eyebrow slit, or a piercing. Maybe you’re wearing a white shirt, or black jeans. When you notice these things, relay the information to yourself, saying: “I see X” or “I notice Y.”
Now, as someone who was constantly picking myself apart in the mirror and analyzing each perceived flaw, looking objectively was much easier said than done. I went slowly, and as I found myself judging, I made sure to notice that, too, and let it pass, almost like a cloud moving across the sky, or a wave crashing along a shore. I definitely wasn’t a master at that, and still have trouble with it to this day, but with time and practice toward looking objectively, I hope that one day:
Every time I go to look at my reflection I will notice something different. Not criticize, not judge. Just notice. And if it happens that a criticism or judgment comes up, I hope to let the cloud pass, to let the wave crash, and continue on, noticing. I can’t say I’ll ever be able to master this exercise, but I do believe I have it in me to try. And if you, too, are drowning in self-judgment and finding it near-impossible to have a good relationship with the mirror, I hope this post can give some direction or hope, or at the very least, let you know you aren’t in this alone.
I believe in you, and I am proud of you.