I wish I could have seen myself when I was younger. The fourteen-year-old girl who had to transfer schools because of bullying and rumors she was a lesbian, as though there was ever anything wrong with being a lesbian. The eighteen-year-old bulimic, new to New York and manically walking from Washington Square Park to 42nd Street and back in the middle of the night, high on confusion and anxiety and no other substances. Twenty-three years old, face painted with too much makeup to create age where there was none, insecure and broke and scared and dating the wrong men. A woman of twenty-seven who should have stood up for herself just a little bit more—perhaps insisted on an elopement photographer or help washing the dishes on occasion. If she had stood a little more ground, things might be very different now. Standing your ground is kindness to others and to yourself. I wish I could have seen myself when I was younger. I could never really look at any of those women in the mirror. I wish I could observe them now. A benevolent gaze. It will all work out for you, my sister. You have everything you need, you can do it.
I look at myself in the mirror all of the time now, metaphorically, of course, but also physically. I have developed a habit of staring into my own eyes as I apply mascara, looking past my face and into my irises. And of standing nude in my living room- before I get dressed to go out—staring at the curve of my breasts, stretch marks slightly more noticeable on my left side, the curve of my hips, slight dimples under my ass. Soft lips, large eyes, an imperfect nose. Wide calves and a pierced navel. I often snap a photo or two, for myself, not to send to men. My gaze is content and appreciative, the way I look at a dear friend when she stands near me. Those eyes! God, she’s beautiful.
A wrinkle is settling into my forehead and I am letting it—at least for now—a hard earned mark of enduring and carrying on. Of course, we all endure and we all carry on. Many of my hardships have been the direct result of my choices. I see my flaws and accept them, changing the things I can out of duty to myself.