Yesterday morning, the first day of school holidays, I was already hearing the cries of ‘Mum, I’m bored’. But by the afternoon both boys had decided to spend a few hours in the park. As I had to go to the shops to pick up something for dinner it was music to my ears.
Food shopping with all 3 kids is the stuff nightmares are made from. I have a shopping list to read and a trolley to push, Tabitha pulls things off the shelf, #1son is usually obnoxious and #2son wants to be helpful whilst being totally clueless about food shopping. This happens simultaneously and causes me to slightly hyperventilate.
Getting back to my story, I didn’t have the kids so I took a few minutes to look at clothes (for ME!). I found several summer dresses I liked and went to try them on in the changing room.
Normally I’m quite happy with who I am – not deliriously happy but content. I can live with what I’ve got. Oh, but yesterday I saw myself in the changing room mirror.
Usually during the day I’m so busy I might glance in the bathroom mirror once or twice. I hardly ever wear makeup and my hair routine is strictly wash and go. When photos are being taken, I’m the one behind the lens. I don’t often get the chance to see all of me. All at once.
I hate changing room mirrors.
Nothing about my reflection pleased me. All I could do was stand and look at my flaws – hair quickly tied back, skin blotchy and body bloated. This was with clothes on. When I changed clothes I didn’t look. I think I would have cried.
All body issues I have (and have ever had) were there for me to glare at in the mirror. Usually I don’t see them. But a changing room mirror is not there to spare your feelings. It laughs in the face of pseudo body confidence and leaves you a gibbering mess.
There may be wisdom to learn from my changing room experience like NEVER go in one ever again (or at least not when you’re PMS-ing). Or perhaps it was a wake up call and I should put more time (i.e. any time) into my appearance. I don’t know.
Am I alone in my hatred for changing room mirrors? Do you like what you see when you enter the little cubicle or are you reminded of what you don’t like about yourself? And if you’re short sighted like me, does it help if you remove your glasses before entering?