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For a time in my life, I actively avoided mirrors. Much like how I react to strangers, I looked away, kept my eyes down. Nothing to see here, move along…
I could look at my clothes, assess my make-up, and make sure my shoes matched in a mirror, but I looked without seeing, without comprehension. See the parts, not the whole…
That changed when John Brownstone became my Dominant. I mentioned, in passing, that I hated looking at my own body in the mirror. I cried the first time I disrobed for him. My relationship with my body and how I perceived it bordered on toxic. He was having none of it.
For weeks, months, I had a new task. Each morning, I stood in front of the mirror, looked in my own eyes, and said, “You are beautiful. You are loved. You are worthy of love.”
Sounds silly, I know. I thought so, too, but I wanted to be a good submissive, so I did it, believing I was humoring him. It took the better part of a year to realize his task wasn’t silly bullshit but something that worked.
Say something often enough, and you begin to believe it. Without being consciously aware of it, I began to like what I saw in the mirror. My eyes met in the reflection. I wasn’t just pieces and parts but the sum of a whole, and she looked kind of okay to me.
That habit fell to the side when we moved in together. I had no need to remind myself I was loved and beautiful because I lived with a constant reminder. He wrapped me in his arms every day and told me in a million different ways.
Instead of avoiding the mirror, I had no need of it. For the first time, I didn’t even feel the need to obsess over the bits and pieces I used to, wondering if this made my butt look fat or that made my ankles look thick. Or whether a skirt was too short or my thighs too wide. Instead, I twirled in front of John Brownstone who (thankfully) has always been the first to tell me I’m beautiful but also that my ass is hanging out.
For a time, it was freeing being out of the snare of the mirror. I didn’t feel the need to avoid my own gaze because I didn’t care what the mirror showed in the first place.
Until the day pants no longer fit right. My stretchiest skirt had no more give to it. Shirts didn’t cover my stomach the same way. When I finally looked in the mirror, I was unrecognizable to myself. (It wasn’t really as drastic as all that but at the time, it felt like it.)
Taking a honest look at myself, I’d known for weeks that something wasn’t right. And truly, I’d avoided the mirror because I didn’t want to know. I’d put on 30 pounds in a little over a year. Who knew Starbucks, greasy food, and midnight runs for milkshakes could do that? (Me, I knew, but I was so damn happy, I didn’t care.)
I spiraled right back to a similar place – not meeting my own eyes, avoiding looking at the extra weight, hating every second I spent in front of the mirror. Had I told him, he would have put me back on a regimen of self-love. Maybe I should have. Instead, I do what I do best – avoided thinking about any of it.
Two long years later, I’m coming back around to the mirror. As someone who spends no time on make-up or hair, I don’t have a lot of reasons to look in one. After spending a lot of time on my mental health, problems with food, and finding a new love of working out, I’m finding something to love in the mirror again…
When I bend over the bed, the curve of my ass is perfectly reflected in our bathroom mirror. Even I know it’s a glorious sight.
From weeks of eating the right foods and moving my body, I have a dip in my waist again that flares out into a fleshy hip. I love to put my hands in the curve as I look in the mirror.
My legs, not exactly long, are lean and muscled.
Panties on a cute butt. Jeans that hug and accentuate curves.
Slowly but surely, I’m finding what I like in the mirror again. Yes, it’s still pieces and parts. But the difference this time is that I’ll not only look myself in the eyes, I’ll give myself a cheeky wink before I walk away with a sway in my hips.
Welcome to Wicked Wednesday! This week’s topic asks us to talk about mirrors – love them or hate them. I have little opinion of mirrors, only what I see reflected in them. If you’re looking for something smutty, you know where to go…