Just SMILE

When I smile, for pictures it is fake. If something tickles me, one of the rare, natural smiles will come out. I know what it feels like but it has rarely been caught on camera. Its not that I am categorically unhappy all of the time. I just have that, as they say, resting bitch face. I change my profile pics a lot. I have a real need to be honest and it comes out in funny ways sometimes. Like I don’t keep a younger version of me up. I like most women take a lot of looks in the mirror and at times have taken my fair share of selfies, but the need to be genuine has always hung on me like a cloak. I hate lying and have but still hate it. I have also spent an inordinate amount of time in front of a mirror all my life. I have chastised myself many times over this vanity but there is something more to it. I find I it continues to be a practice in my life.

When I was a girl, I would recite television commercials in the bathroom mirror, pretend I was the dentist office receptionist and concoct wild treatments for hair, face and body. I was the middle of three girls with a little bro at the tail end. All the girls did this and we would at times play these games together but I do believe I was in there studying myself a lot more than they were. I really think now that I am older that that is exactly what I was doing. But as my feelings of unworthiness grew with my age, I also began to use the mirror to judge myself. I would look deep into my own eyes and try to see who was in there. Who is she? And how can I feel acceptable? Outward appearance became an issue by about grade 6. I had two sisters and many beautiful female cousins and my parents were always telling me to smile. So the mirror became important in my quest to appear normal, good, acceptable. I practiced smiling, having conversations, trying to prepare myself for scenarios where I would be around church people or family. I am not ashamed to admit that this is exactly how I prepare for any possible conversation I might have to have. Its not insincere and I don’t memorize but practice what sounds reasonably normal. I try not to second guess myself but my brain is always analyzing.

At that time it was an auto response. I don’t think at 9 I had a cohesive plan on how to navigate socially. I am pretty sure now that I had a Guardian Angel or two. I was just smart like that. Way more knowledge of the adult world and attitudes than I should have and when I opened my mouth something awkward for someone would come out. Usually me. I called it like I saw it. I got in trouble a lot for speaking. It wasn’t that I was hateful, unless severely provoked, but I had the bad luck of somehow exposing something that others did not want known.

As I walk through the corridors of my recovery and relive my life lessons, I realize I have received a stellar education at the hands of my Father in Heaven. All of the experiences that left me utterly confused, feeling lost and alone were training. I praise God for it now but I did not always. I did see the value in hard times for when I came back up again, the good was always so so good. I still study myself in the mirror and part of my recovery is to love that girl that I see. She is still in there but she has to take better care of herself now. I no longer allow myself to cuss myself. I try to do something every single day towards my life goals now that I have some. I tell myself what I did good and I am boosted in my spirit to do more. I am the person and the help that I need.