Please leave your take on beauty, self perception or anything else that seems to fit in here.
There are a few mirrors I can't avoid glancing in when I'm walking around my house. Our closet doors have mirrors on them (probably some kind of interior decorating innovation in 1978 Lately I like seeing myself in the mirror, but I can't forget that used to hate it. As long as I was in school I thought I was ugly. Hmph. That was a long time, too. And looking in mirrors at times was an obsession But I like my nose now, it's not too bad, maybe kind of nice. I like my brown eyes that sometimes seem almost almond shaped and other times are really huge. :) My lips are the right sort that can get pouty or serious. I have a bad habit of lip-fidgeting, at times, though. Embarassing. Sometimes I can't really see my cheekbones
I hate and love mirrors. They reflect back only what i already feet, and tell me nothing i did not feel before in the curve of my back or the roundness of my stomach. If i feel beautiful, it bounces back off the mirror, and i realize again how tall i am, the colour of my hair, the way my shoulders move and breasts curve. If i feel ugly i see all that i hate about my body, it's imperfections, the eternal insistance that i am too big to fit this tiny plastic world. Strangly enough, ive felt better about my body in the last few months then i have... well.. ever. -Dawn I like myself. My curly, dyed-black hair, and my deep but friendly brown eyes. The way my lips are shaped, the way I smile. I like the blush on my cheeks and how my nose is shaped just-right, and even my complexion, which has gotten better lately. And I like the clothes I wear, my unique style. My goals for the future and where I am at now, my personality and my tastes in everything. I like my confidence, but I am struggling to keep it. I tell myself every day that I am beautiful, but I hear others say other things. A few days ago, a friend jokingly told me I was ugly and repulsive. I laughed and told him that I was the sexiest girl in the world, and what did he know? And that's what I am always doing. It's easy to defend myself against insults like that, when I know the person probably doesn't truly think that. But then there is my mother, and our fights over my choice of style. "I'm sorry, Eireann, but your fashion sense is not one of your strong points." "I don't want to see you walking out of the house looking like a dope." "You dress like you're twelve years old, what's wrong with you?" I hold my head high and laugh and tell her that I like my sense of style just fine, and no one else has a problem with it, but yes, it rankles in me. I wonder if she would be so critical if I was a boy. Probably not. Just fucking tell me why I have to have this shit spilled on me? It's the ongoing battle of how I want to appear as myself for the world, and everyone's trying to tell me that myself is not good enough. ~Eire I still get lost in the mirror When I look at my face in the mirror, I don't come away knowing if I am beautiful or not. Something takes apart who I am to rate the pieces and then forgets to fit them back together again. I am. Nose. Irish as in not-small, but not-big, a small beak. Cheekbones. Too wide? Maybe not, after all Jackie O had widely placed cheekbones. Lips. Good. But always giving away my emotions, even the tiniest ones. Eyebrows? okay. Thick, but okay-thick. Eyelashes. Long, because I don't use mascara anymore. Eyes. Oh dear, eyes. I get lost in mine. It's like seeing yourself twice. Who am I? Quick, I am forgetting who I am . Forehead, high, but good high. Skin. Just skin. Pale from winter. Lightly freckled. Two beauty marks. Oh. Is that two many? Other people like them. I don't give a damn. Chin like my mothers, just there. Only when I leave the mirror and forget about it do the pieces come back together. Then I am beautiful. Yesterday, James asked me why it is I look constantly into the mirror and I'll have to admit, its vanity, but also with some curiosity. My face is changing, always changing... new and fresh and beautiful... sometimes it is the face of a young child, sometimes a woman, sometimes my face shows fear, other times beauty, patience or love. Sometimes it shows worry, from to much work, and other times peace. But all of life is a mirror, and everything I see is a reflection, in some way, of me. - Christy when i look in the mirror all i see is a big ole ugly fat cow excuse of a girl lately I've been taking a dry erase marker and tracing my reflection on the mirror. it makes me view my body more objectively somehow... not as a reflection, but as a drawing of someone else. especially since I don't draw in the face. I alternate between thinking I'm beautiful and thinking I have a long way to go before I'm ever beautiful and feeling guilty for both. a family friend told me the other day that I'd lost weight, or grown, or in someway reproportioned and looked really good. I had no idea how to respond. I don't weigh myself. last time I did I was 130 lb. and that's what I assume I am. does thinking "I really should try to loose 10 pounds" make you get skinnier? I really like my hips, a lot more than my breasts, because my hips are very womanly. I mean, they're built for babies. my breasts are just breasts, 15-year-old breasts. maybe I feel like I have a better claim to my hips because the media makes such a huge deal out of breasts. I guess I'm done rambling now. When I look in the mirror, my reflection doesn't seem to have anything to do with me. - Naela
When I look in the mirror... it depends. Sometimes I think "Damn, I'm hot! Who wouldn't want me?" And then sometimes I just can't stand more than a glance. Especially in sidways mirrors, for some reason. I just can't imagine what anyone could possibly see in me. Sometimes I think my legs are too short, and my torso's too long, and my nose is all wrong, and my arms are too buff, and my butt is either too big or not big enough. The only thing I continuously like about myself, even on those bad days, are my breasts. Go figure. The body part that most girls theoretically worry about the most... What's really scary is how much outside factors have to do with how I see myself. Like, all it takes is a rude catcall across the street ("Hey! You got a nice little body there!") to make me secure in my appearence for a week, and it just takes a look or a comment from my mom about my belly sticking out of my shirt to bring me back to poking in front of the mirror again. I guess we girls can't win, can we? God, and why do we care this much??? Argh! We should just torch the Cosmopolitans and Seventeens of this world and get back to what we, personally, find atractive in our peers. Like bellies, for instance. Aren't bellies wonderful? Are not they beautiful and round and cushy and erotic and sensual and all over classical paintings? But we don't want them on ourselves; we just admire them on other people. God, fuck us. (Can you tell what magazines I've been reading lately? On what I wear: Although I guess I have nice-looking legs, I'm very insecure about wearing tight pants (by tight I mean not hugely baggy and oversized). For one thing, I think tight pants look funny if you don't cross your legs, and I don't really like sitting pretty and feminine all the time. Plus it's harder to move around in them. But down at the bottom of all this, I'm pretty insecure about how my body looks below the waist. But I like how my torso looks, so I'm fine with wearing tight, revealing stuff on top. I like walking big and moving big, so I wear big boots a lot. I don't like messing with my hair, so it's short. I like my face (most of the time) so I don't really wear make-up all that much. Yeah. And that's all I have to say right now on the subject of how I look. -Samantha NBTSWikiWiki | Recent Changes Edited 13 times, last edited on October 10, 2001 by ::ffff:63.206.119.242. © 2000 NBTSC Webmasters |
make your rooms look bigger with mirrors! We haven't gotten rid of them yet.)
