Why looking in the mirror traumatized me…

I woke up one morning recently, peeked in the mirror and nearly fainted. Okay, maybe I’m being a lil dramatic here. BUT, it traumatized me.

Who was the “she” looking back at me? I couldn’t recognize myself. Had I aged so much since I went to bed the night before? I remember grabbing desperately at my breasts trying to determine if they had suffered through the night as well.

If you’re thinking that I’m a vain woman (not my preferred choice of word but I’m trying to be decent) then you’re partially right. But you see it’s so much more than that.

Tonight, I was reading a post on my friend’s blog (http://churchroadman.blogspot.com/2013/07/running-when-i-shouldnt.html) and it made me even sadder than I was about the whole looking in the mirror thing. It made me realize just how much time changes us.

You see, it’s not just that I’m terrified of aging but I’m terrified of becoming a stranger to myself (if that makes sense to you). Just like I suddenly saw a stranger in the mirror, maybe one day I’ll find that I no longer tick the way I always did. Starting over with myself is what makes me afraid.

Tonight though, I’m looking in the mirror again and it isn’t so bad. I mean so what if I have to find a new rhythm of living. I’ll survive won’t I? My friend, the Church Road Man, seems to be doing pretty well. Power to him!

Sharing a quick moment with you while I’m on the go.
Sara.

2 thoughts on “Why looking in the mirror traumatized me…

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