Shiny and New

I woke up and stared in the mirror, reflecting. Reflecting on my reflection. Moments later the reflection showed Bryan's puzzled face passing behind me as I plucked gray hairs out of my head with a pair of tweezers. The same puzzled face that would tell me, "Six..." when I asked what time we were going over to his parents for dinner while my lips were covered in white exfoliating cream.

A reflection. Besides the myriad of overwhelming evidence against the contrary, it actually is whats on the inside that counts. Why is that so hard to remember? Outside of normal hygiene maintenance, I force myself to undergo the gauntlet of feminine beauty products. Creams, scrubs, scrubby creams. Despite the smell of melon, ginger and dead skin cells, I usually come out the same.

I constantly subject myself to criticisms of those who aren't the people who love me, or have even met me. Their unheard voice echoing just loud enough to drown out my husbands loving gaze. While he is telling me the almond chicken I made is actually kinda good, I see visions of Crest Whitening Strips. He laughs at my dry humor and I wonder about abs and glutes and how to get them 'rock hard', as that seems to be the most desirable way to have abs and glutes.

While I reflect on these things, I find myself saying a little prayer for the girls that face the endless struggle to be polished, waxed, tanned, taut, shiny and new. The world may not catch on, but the quest for visual acceptance of strangers is really unrewarding. And while my glutes may never, ever, be 'rock hard', I know my support system will be. And that, God willing, will be the reflection I will try to convey to the many beautiful women in my life.