Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror and wondered whose reflection is that staring back at you? Within the last few months I have found myself doing it time and again. It's like in my head I see myself as one way, but what stares back at me in the mirror is totally different. Years ago, I decided to block out lots of events from my memory, they were too painful and not really worth dwelling on. I realized within recent times that I did myself an injustice by blocking them rather than trying to resolve them. They resurfaced and seemed to have come back with a vengeance and as such I believe that the only way to get them out is to write them away. As a teenager I struggled with really low self esteem and a very poor self concept. Horrible acne, early onset polycystic ovaries coupled with weight gain and hirsutism didn't help. Did I mention that the secondary school I was attending was one which was considered the worst in the country and as such I was already labelled a failure? I struggled through it and eventually the acne went away, the weight went down considerably and well the PCOS is somewhat in check these days. I have also gone on to attain success academically, so much so that I am the holder of a 1st Degree and am presently in pursuit of my Masters.
One would think that due to the "drastic improvement" in outward appearance that life would now progress along an easy path. Time and again and more so within recent times I have been told about my beauty, my stateliness, my intelligence, my bubbly disposition and my strength of character. Yet with all of these extrinsic forms of societal approval and visible signs of improvements- academically, socially and physically, I feel as if the person staring back at me in the mirror is a complete stranger.
I feel as if there is a disconnect between what I see and what I sense on the inside. Is she really me? Is this relatively flawless skinned, well groomed (most days) young lady really me? Is this well made up (at times) female the same one who thought make up was clownish and didn't even know where to start applying it, really me? Is this woman staring at me, who now wears heels confidently (when she does) the same child floundering around in her mother's heels, really me?
As I struggle forward my self efficacy and self esteem are in constant limbo, see sawing back and forth between low and high. There is an embittered battle ensuing within my being as I strive for a meshing between my physical appearance and my opinions and view of myself. These days I feel like a piece of a puzzle that has fallen out of its box and in in dire need of locating the box to which it belongs in an effort to find its best suited fit.
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