Tuesday, April 04, 2006

I tend to avoid the mirror during certain times of the month. Like most women, I go through phases of self-esteem and when I'm bloated, cramping and overemotional, I don't usually enjoy the sight of my own reflection. For the next few days my pants and my bras won't fit as comfortably as they usually do, my skin feels different, my stomach won't tolerate certain foods but I crave mass quantities of chocolate and/or salty foods, I cry at the drop of a hat and I sleep a lot more than usual. It's just an all around awful week. I've got a paper to write and a final coming up on Friday.

The mirror is my enemy. It knows how much the truth hurts and it shows me just that. There is a large ceiling to floor mirror right by my bedroom door so that your reflection is the very first thing you see when you enter my bedroom. I will be sad to leave the mirror when I move out. On days like today, it's almost too much to have to see myself when entering and exiting my room. Stolen glances from the corner or my eye reveal nothing but flaws. Imperfections are maximized and my vision is drawn to them. Difficulty fitting into a pair of jeans that fit me well only a few days prior is enough to make my eyes well up. Covering myself in baggy clothing is nothing new since oversized clothes are a staple in my closet.

The mirror shows me what I'd like to refuse to see. I'd like to cover up the excess fat. Sometimes even the tiniest bulge over the elastic of my skimpiest underwear is enough to make me cringe. I'd love to have a personal airbrusher and I could live happily in a self-Photoshopped world, but then I wouldn't be a real person. Real people aren't perfect. The most I can do is avoid the mirror for now. Underneath my clothes I know the imperfections are still there. I can feel them with my hands. My fingertips brush over stretch marks and cellulite and places where there is a little too much jiggle. I want to hide in my pyjamas forever so no one will see what I look like underneath.

Then there is he who forces me to deny the negativities of the mirror. He who never finds it too much to give me a smile. He who could act completely platonic around me all day but suddenly sweep his arm around my waist bringing butterflies into my stomach. The way he can pull my hair back so that my head tilts up to meet his gaze makes my knees weak. He thinks I am beautiful even though I joke that he never tells me. He doesn't have to (although a girl does like to hear the words every so often). It's in his actions and how he is so willing to do things for me to ensure that I am spoiled rotten. Even from him I make the effort to hide myself during period week. He thinks it's funny that I get out of control girly and, oddly enough, I find comfort when he laughs at my tears instead of turning away like I would have expected. I'll burrow in between his arms and hope that the rest of the world can go away temporarily. Nothing will go right for me over the week. I will just have to continue to ignore the mirror since I can't ignore the cramping.

Today I felt so sick that I was debating over taking medication (if you know me then you'll understand what a big deal that is). I spent a large chunk of today curled up in bed in the fetal position because it was the best way to lessen the cramps. I did get a lovely surprise though: Joey showed up to take me to go see "Ice Age: The Meltdown"! It was a great movie. I couldn't stop giggling. The possums were hilarious and so was the little squirrel, Scrat, as always.

*stupid link of the day* -1str/+1cha geek shirt: "sure you don't have the physical strength of your male counterparts, but what you lack in raw muscle you make up for in charisma. Let the geeks of the world know that you're a sexy gal with her finger on the pulse of nerd culture with our first exclusively ladies tee!" JeN's mind ejaculated @ 1:49 a.m. | | permalink