Our new place has many things our old place didn't have - bathtubs (two of them!), cupboards, a linen closet, windows, stairs.
Our new place also has mirrors. So. Many. Mirrors. There are eight full-length mirrors in the bedroom, one for each closet door panel. Eight more by the front door on the coat closet. Aaaand another four in the upstairs bathroom in addition to the large counter mirror, which means you can watch yourself pee from every angle. Plus your classic bathroom cupboard mirrors (we have bathroom cupboards!)
So these days, I see myself a lot. If Steven leaves his closet door open, which he does, every morning, I see a full-length, naked, me step out of the shower bright and early. This is new.
|The offending mirror (and open closet door)|
It used to be that you just needed to be skinny. And then they came out with "Strong is the new skinny" so you couldn't just be skinny, you also had to be fit. Now you're allowed to be chubby if it means something. You can have fat and stretch marks if they are representative of the life you've brought into the world. But I haven't done that, so my fat just represents the Breyer's Cookies and Cream I ate tonight and the family-size box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch I made my way through over the weekend.
My relationship with my body is complicated, to say the least. Which I think is normal and probably okay. I am grateful for the things it can do and annoyed at the things it can't. Sometimes I am desperately angry and hurt over its many failings. I would like to say that now is the time where the mirrors help me accept who I am and love my body (that expression makes me want to barf). But for now, all I'm doing is taking a deep breath, and seeing.
|Our new home, the Land of a Thousand Reflections|