Ditch the mirror, ask the boyfriend!

I have never met a mirror I didn’t love but I am really beginning to hate the mirror in the office. The other day as I walked over to the sink to wash my hands during a pee break, I caught a glimpse of myself and shrunk in horror.  There were gaping spaces in my eye brows and the pimples which I thought were tiny were peering back at me with brazen confidence. Then I started to feel tardy and a little grumpy until I met up with The boyfriend for lunch.

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.