The Mirror and Me: A Journey of Tolerance, Acceptance, and Growth

CW/TW: This post touches on body and weight issues, specifically from the perspective of a fat person. Please be advised as it may be triggering for some readers.

I kind of accidentally, sort of on purpose, bought myself a full-length mirror.

Let me explain. You see, I’ve always been a pro at using mirrors without actually looking at myself. I can dye my hair, shave my head, even try on clothes, all while successfully avoiding making eye contact with my own reflection. It’s a skill, really. I had learned how to look at myself without actually seeing myself.

The mirror and I have never really been friends. In fact, it's been a bit of a strained relationship, kind of like the classic protagonist meeting the “loner” character in a feel-good movie. The mirror wasn’t the one who rejected me—it was more like society’s reflections that taught me to be afraid of what I saw.

Growing up, everything I thought I knew about what the mirror reflected came from other people. From snide comments about my body size, from sad remarks that the mirror was “too mean.” From all the opinions others held about me, and the way I “should” be. Even though the mirror’s job was to reflect, somehow, I was convinced that the reflection came with authority. But it wasn’t the mirror’s voice I was hearing. It was everyone else's.

A New Beginning with My Reflection

Around 2010, I decided to take a step towards changing things. I thought, “What if I could see my reflection without all that noise? What if I could look and not instantly feel ashamed?” It wasn’t about loving myself immediately, but about tolerating my reflection without making faces, or judging myself, or replaying the things I’d heard people say about my size.

It wasn’t perfect. In fact, there were plenty of days I couldn’t handle it. But I did get better. Most of the time, I was indifferent to the reflection, and on the better days, I even liked what I saw. Still, there were moments when I’d avoid it, or feel uncomfortable. But at least, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t actively hating myself.

The Struggle with Visibility

But then, something shifted. A recent realization I had turned into two connected thoughts, each tied to my journey with the mirror.

The first? I want to speak.

I want to speak to large groups of people. I want to share everything I know about Healthy Humaning and help people see how they can create more fulfilling lives. I want to be on stages, on TV, in front of crowds—sharing everything I’ve learned.

But every time I picture myself doing it, a familiar thought takes over:

“That sounded really good... but you’re fat.”

And in that moment, everything else falls away. The content, the passion, the purpose. It all disappears, replaced by the fear that my body will overshadow everything I’m saying.

That thought? It’s loud. It’s been with me for a long time. And it's still hard to shake. I can’t count the number of times I’ve held myself back from going all in because I’m worried about what people will think of my body. It doesn't matter how amazing my message is. If I’m fat, I’ve been conditioned to think that’s all anyone will see.

The Short Mirrors

The second realization came when I started to think about my “short mirrors.” You know, mirrors that only reflect part of me. When I catch a full-length reflection or a full-body picture, I see something entirely different. Something that doesn’t feel familiar to me. I’m used to seeing just the upper half of myself—the parts I’ve learned to accept.

Above the belly button, I’ve worked hard to embrace who I am. But below that? The full view still feels like a battle. And I think that’s where a lot of the struggle lies. I’ve spent years learning to love the parts of me I can see most easily. But the other parts? The ones that are harder to look at? They’ve still got work to be done.

Some days I’m okay with it. Some days I’m not. That’s okay. It’s a spectrum, after all.

The Mirror and Me: Making Peace

I bought that full-length mirror for a reason. It’s part of a long-standing effort to grow. If I can learn to love the parts of me I’ve worked on accepting, I can’t just ignore the parts I haven’t learned to love yet. The goal isn’t just to tolerate it anymore, but to eventually accept it—and appreciate it.

So why buy a mirror that shows me everything I don’t like? Because I deserve to see all of me, not just the parts that society deems acceptable. I deserve to experience the fullness of who I am, including the messy, complicated parts.

The mirror has never been my friend, but that’s not its fault. It’s mine. I’ve spent too much time internalizing the voices of others, letting them dictate what I should see when I look at myself. Now, I’m learning to shut those voices out and take back the power over my own reflection.

The work isn’t easy, and some days it feels harder than others. But this is part of my journey, and it’s worth it. I am worth it.

Taking Action in a World Full of Mirrors

The next time you find yourself standing in front of a mirror, ask yourself: Are you truly seeing yourself, or are you hearing the judgments of everyone else? And how can you start taking back the reflection, one step at a time?

We can be so much more than the body we see in the mirror. We can be the message, the purpose, the light. But it’s hard to do that when we can’t stand to see ourselves as we are. So let’s take the time to get comfortable with our own reflection, even if it’s uncomfortable at first. It’s not about perfection—it’s about embracing the journey, flaws and all.

If you’re struggling with seeing your full self—physically, emotionally, or mentally—I encourage you to start small. Look at the parts of yourself you’ve avoided, and ask yourself what you can do to embrace them. No, it’s not easy, but trust me: It’s worth the effort.

We’ve all got a lifetime of conditioning to undo. But here’s the thing: You are already doing amazing.

We’re all a work in progress—and that’s perfectly okay.

#HappyHealthyHumaning