5 min read
mood: vulnerable
🪞
Every Version at Once
Mirrors are not simple for me. They never have been. Most people glance at their reflection and move on with their day. I look at mine and every version of myself I have ever been stares back.
I see the kid before the first surgery. I see the kid after. I see the swelling and the stitches and the healing and the next one and the next one. Every face I have ever worn is layered on top of each other like they are all happening at the same time. And with each face comes the feelings that went with it. The fear. The hope that this time it would be better. The disappointment when better still was not enough.
That is what people do not understand about having surgery on your face. It is not one recovery. It is dozens of recoveries from dozens of versions of yourself. And every single one of them lives in the mirror waiting for you to look.
I see the kid before the first surgery. I see the kid after. I see the swelling and the stitches and the healing and the next one and the next one. Every face I have ever worn is layered on top of each other like they are all happening at the same time. And with each face comes the feelings that went with it. The fear. The hope that this time it would be better. The disappointment when better still was not enough.
That is what people do not understand about having surgery on your face. It is not one recovery. It is dozens of recoveries from dozens of versions of yourself. And every single one of them lives in the mirror waiting for you to look.
👁 Everyone Can See It
👁
Everyone Can See It
The worst part is that everyone else can see it too. I walk around knowing that I look different. That is not a guess. That is reality. People notice. They always have. But I have to pretend it does not matter. I have to act like it is not a thing so I can get through the day and function like a normal person. So I push it down. I move on. I pretend. And then I catch my reflection somewhere and it all comes flooding back.
I want to look at myself and see the best version of me. I want to see someone who is enough. But I cannot get there. Not yet. Because my entire life the message was the opposite. Every appointment, every consultation, every time a doctor looked at my face it was about what still needed fixing. Still needs work here. Room for improvement there. One more procedure and then we will see.
I want to look at myself and see the best version of me. I want to see someone who is enough. But I cannot get there. Not yet. Because my entire life the message was the opposite. Every appointment, every consultation, every time a doctor looked at my face it was about what still needed fixing. Still needs work here. Room for improvement there. One more procedure and then we will see.
📝 The Punch List
📝
The Punch List
It was never finished. There was always something else. Always another flaw to correct. And no one ever stopped in the middle of all that to say you are good as you are. That no matter what your face looks like right now in this moment you are enough. I never heard that. Not from doctors. Not from the people around me. Nobody paused the assembly line long enough to tell me that the current version was already worth something.
So now I stand in front of a mirror and I cannot say it to myself either. I see the scars. I see the imperfections. I hear the echoes of every professional who mapped out what was still wrong with me like my face was a project with an open punch list. And I try to tell myself it is fine, that I am fine, that I am more than what I see. But the voice saying that is quiet. And the voices from the past are loud.
So now I stand in front of a mirror and I cannot say it to myself either. I see the scars. I see the imperfections. I hear the echoes of every professional who mapped out what was still wrong with me like my face was a project with an open punch list. And I try to tell myself it is fine, that I am fine, that I am more than what I see. But the voice saying that is quiet. And the voices from the past are loud.
""Making Space for a New Voice
I do not know how to get rid of those feelings. I do not think you just delete them. They are in my head and in my heart and they have been building since I was a kid. What I am trying to do is make space for a new voice alongside them. One that says what no one ever said to me. That I was always good enough. That every version of me in that mirror deserved to hear it. Even the ones that never did.
I am not there yet. But I am closer than I was yesterday. And some days that is the only thing I can hold onto.