Choosing what to see in the mirror
Reflections from my new 10x magnifying mirror
My face is a theme park thanks to the 10x light up magnifying mirror I received for Christmas this year.
The price of entry is my teetering self esteem, and yet I asked for this mirror and now have an annual pass.
The desire to own this mirror really hit me during Halloween when I dressed up as a horse jockey (my husband a horse of course) and I rode him around town.
We were obviously very popular amongst the crowd with everyone asking to take a picture of us. As I began to pose I thought “What face does a jockey make? Duh- pursed lips in a pout of course.” So as pics were snapped I puckered up. The picture in my mind of myself was sexy, my face taut and as buoyant as my husband’s gallup.
But alas, the digital evidence proved otherwise showing cheeks as saggy and deflated as the tits my children drank dry. The lines around my lips cause you to double take as if an arachnid has been thrown on my face.
And all of this was a lot to take in, so can you blame me for asking for this mirror and wanting to feel like I had a little control, or at least be able to get a deeper look at my aging face up close?
Just like entering Disneyland, my face is a magical oasis of places to explore and get infinitely lost in. This is how I feel when the mirror flips over and the halo light clicks on. Buckle up, it’s going to be a ride.
In the theme park of my face the lines act as pathways to explore other parts of my face, think of them as gateways to all the lands of aging going on. And OMG are there lots of paths to take, so many it warrants a water break.
A particularly fun place are my sagging cheeks. Drooped and sagged in such a way it offers a delightful and fast slide for tear drops to stream down as I hear the recent voice from my Ageless Beauty consultation, “There is no turning back for you, Botox is it. Do you really want to look like this all the time?”
There is horror here for me to behold like the large stepping stones of sun spots from years spent driving on the 405. There is the absurd like the redness that has formed into a mustache that apparently is from raging hormones within my body. Rad. There are the surprise and delights, there is shock and awe, and every once in a while there is something sweet to take in like the cute nose ring I got when I was 18 — it’s basically Bravo going on from my chinny chin chin to these new baby hairs growing from my scalp.
My judgment is so excited to be here and my finger tips tingle with excitement to go pinch around and cause havoc like the little kids leashed to their parents backpacks.
Oooh - this first attraction is seasonal - Milia Mountain. I can play here all day because the f*ing thing will not pop and will not go away unless I have a needle, but needles aren’t allowed at this theme park for fear of emotional and physical scarring. But, just like any good carny game- I can’t help but come back to Milia Mountain for one more pinch in the hopes of trying to win the grand prize - the eruption of this dead skin flake being suffocated under my skin.
Are we having fun yet?! I am!
Everyone comes to Disneyland wanting to see Mickey, but it’s never a guarantee. This is what it’s like entering Upper Lip Land. Mickey, better known here as Jack, a really coarse manly beard hair is evasive and hard to find amongst all the other hairs that have suddenly sprouted up. (Where was the heads up from the elders that one day you wake up and suddenly have a forest above your lip? Rude.) I think I found Jack but then nope- it was just the light playing tricks.
But OMG, when I run across Jack for real I can’t help but get goosies knowing I totally just scored the pluck of my life. Plucking this hair is like dropping down from Splash Mountain (a total thrill) because Jack is deceptive AF and who knows how long he actually is!!!!!! There is no need to take home a stuffy from this theme park when I can put this coarse hair in my pocket.
It’s always entertaining to take a stroll through the brows and hike down the 11’s (yes, they have names for all the wrinkles we get). Close toed shoes only- these canyons are deep to navigate, but the views are spectacular.
As I age the pores only become larger and more unruly, so I really have to enter this area with caution when I walk along the promenade that is my nose. I have to say though, this part of the theme park is really fun as it’s always producing and popping out great stuff.
Where to next? Doh — dirty dishes in the sink or story time with the girls is what usually brings this adventure to an end. The iridescent light clicks off, the mirror gets flipped back to non magnifying mode and the mirror gets tucked back along the wall and life resumes.
But there is always this moment of self reflection from the in-between of being at the theme park and being zoomed out to see myself in the larger mirror in our bathroom. Each experience to the theme park offering new feelings or different takeaways that emerge.
Some days I want to grab my phone and schedule the Botox appointment immediately to deal with my 11’s, ,my crow’s feet and I would pay anything to get those 100 cc’s all nested up in my face. I will take my hand and push as hard as I can to see a flat forehead, to get a glimpse of what once was that vanished so quickly without notice.
And on other days I see the lines and sun spots as these beautiful imprints- almost a piece of art. The lines representing the thousands of feelings felt from a life well lived.
So relatable. I like to think of my wrinkles as proof of the joy I’ve felt in my life. But resisting that Botox needle ain’t easy with beauty standards today!