It’s routine. You wake up. You take a shower. You look at yourself in the mirror once, twice, maybe more while you’re getting dressed for work or wherever you may be heading. At work, you check your clothes in the mirror, making sure you are presentable. Shirt tucked in. Skirt on straight. Checking your teeth after lunch for the proverbial piece of spinach. The outside’s covered.
And the not so routine: New Year’s, Birthdays, Christmas. You take stock of your life. Where you are so far on Life Lane. Where you want to go: Career Circle, Grad School Street, Parents Parkway. What you’ve done. What you need to do. Finish that degree. Lose those last ten pounds. Finish that “Goals” list that you started last New Year’s. Making little adjustments to the list throughout the year.
Each time we look at ourselves, what are we really looking at? The split ends in our hair. The invisible tattoo across our forehead that says “Lose 10 Pounds”. We’re immediately drawn to the flaws. The imperfections. We see the girl without the degree. She’s got a job, but is it a career? She’s not out every night with this “Ab Fab” social life either.
Why is the picture we see different from what everyone else sees? We don’t see the big brown eyes. The nice smile. The nice curves because of those “extra” ten pounds. The one who aced the testing. The anchor. The one who will show up at 430 AM so you can go shopping the day after Thanksgiving without the babies.
Maybe they’re being polite. Sisters aren’t always polite. Maybe they don’t notice. Moms always notice that extra piece of cake you had after dinner. Maybe, just maybe, they know the ‘imperfections’ are what make you who you are. Friends accept the whole package. The broken cookies and all.
Metro Margarita 
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