Buy me a coffee?
For days, she undressed and stood before the mirror, her eyes scanning her reflection with a mixture of anxiety and dissatisfaction. I pretended not to notice, but it was impossible to ignore the way she scrutinized herself. She would suck in her belly, lift her breasts, and arch her back, as if trying to mold her body into an ideal she felt she was failing to meet.
One evening, after watching her silently wage this battle against her reflection, I decided to take action. While she was at work, I removed the mirror from our room and hid it away. That night, she came home, performed her usual ritual of undressing, and then turned to face the empty wall where the mirror had once hung. Her confusion quickly turned to alarm.
“Where is the mirror?” she demanded, her voice a mixture of surprise and frustration.
“I took it out,” I replied calmly.
“Why did you take it out?” she asked, her tone now tinged with hurt.
I took a deep breath, knowing that my words had to convey the depth of my feelings. “Because it doesn’t reflect what I see. When I look at you, I see a beautiful woman who has worked tirelessly to achieve everything she sets her mind to. I see someone who constantly strives to be a better person, who has raised two amazing boys through incredibly tough times, and who possesses a heart of gold. You somehow manage to find time to be with me despite all that. And I know that when you look in the mirror, you don’t see any of that.”
She stood there, processing my words. “Sometimes,” I continued, “all it takes is a word of love, a reminder that your imperfections are part of what makes you perfect to me. What we feel for each other goes beyond what any mirror can reflect.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, not of sorrow, but of relief and gratitude. In that moment, she saw herself through my eyes, if only for a fleeting instant. And in that instant, she realized that her worth was far greater than any reflection could ever show.
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