He noticed I wasn’t as
cheerful as usual and asked what the matter was. “Nothing” came the reply. I
wasn’t going to say how “unbeautiful” I was feeling. So lunch ended and we headed
to the car park. As I walked through the doors, I saw copies of my reflection
on them. My attention was drawn to the
scars from a chicken pox infection years ago and by the time I took another
look in the car window, I was ready to break every piece of glass I saw!
“What’s wrong?” he
asked, observing me slam the car door shut. It all came tumbling out then and
The boyfriend just listened with a patient smile on his face.
“Baby, you are beautiful”
he said, “Those mirrors have nothing on you”. Five minutes later I was back on
top of the world realizing that the office mirror had only amplified the
imperfection on my face and I had fallen into the trap of seeing the worst not
appreciating the best.
Two days later, while at
home I picked up my makeup mirror and scanned my face. I spotted a freshly
delivered patchwork of pink faced pimples on my left cheek and fled into the
bathroom to my stash of toners, cleansers and scrubs all with the prescribed 5%
Salicylic acid. I then dashed back to the mirror hoping my desperate antics
would have restored my skin to velvety smoothness. Alas, the pimples remained. This
time I didn’t seat down and ask the mirror on the wall, after all it had once
been unkind in telling me if I was the fairest of them all. I just grabbed my
phone and called my boyfriend.
