The Mirror - Jess Perry

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was preparing for a photoshoot next-day, struggling to find the right outfit. I wanted a certain vibe, I wanted people to feel a certain way when they looked at my photos.. I wanted to feel sunshine and summer; heat on my skin, the cool breeze that passes on a hot day, picnics and friendship and laughter; I wanted to feel vibrant. I wanted to feel…beautiful. I pulled everything out from my wardrobe along with pieces I had purchased hoping to find the perfect outfit for a great photo session. I tried on piece after piece, but my hope was quickly deflated. Everything I tried on didn’t fit or didn’t feel right or didn’t seem like something I could pull off.  Negative thoughts flooded my mind and I began to feel discouraged. I pulled out any and everything I could think of to make the perfect outfit, but I found nothing. I had fallen short of my own expectations, and my summertime visions quickly dissipated. I was defeated.

Trying to find something to wear seemed to be the most impossible task. I have a closet full of clothing, yet I had nothing to wear. Negative self talk crept in. I spiral downward emotionally as I search and search and find nothing. It took me back to my days of body shaming, low self-esteem, days where I didn’t even feel comfortable in my own skin. I told myself that I don’t look good in anything. I’m not capable of that. I asked myself why I even try. I felt so…ugly. Hideous. Self deprecation at its finest. I was notorious for it. I thought to myself, “Why does everyone else seem to pull it off well but I couldn’t? I’ll never look good. This isn’t my world. I wasn’t made for this. I don’t belong here.” I almost believed it. I was ready to back out of the photoshoot, and I almost did. But I didn’t know I was about to find a game-changer.

Looking at the clothes I pulled out, I see this black pair of jeans I had bought. They sat there, daring me to try them on. Already being full of self doubt, I honestly wasn’t sure I wanted to. They were an entire size bigger than my normal size. I didn’t want any more soul-crushing defeat. But, I needed to know, so I tried them on. Talk about finding the thing you’ve been missing your whole life and never wanting to let it go because you might never find it again…this was that moment. Size no longer mattered because they fit so well. Everything about them was perfect. The feel. The style. They looked good. These pants were exactly what I needed at that moment. The feeling of relief after a negative self-spiral? There’s nothing like it.  Confidence that was missing before started to appear. I looked again at the clothing. I didn’t feel as defeated. I looked at my mirror, and I was ready to try again. “I can do this.” And I did. 

I have always loved the look of red and white polka dots. They feel vintage; timeless, relevant. I remember when I saw it, this polka dot shirt standing out in an entire rack of clothing; I didn’t even know what it looked like, but I knew it was mine. Searching through my pile (after I put on the black pants), I found that polka dot shirt, and I instantly loved it. It was a shorter “fall off the shoulders” top with oversized partial sleeves and a tie in front. I threw on a red pair of heels and topped it off with a sun hat I found at a thrift store; a total shift from my normal style. I looked in my mirror and I fell in love with the entire outfit.I smiled and thought, “This is it. This is ‘the one.’” I had finally found my perfect outfit. I had to take a selfie just so I could remember what I wore and to make sure I wasn’t deceiving myself. This outfit made me feel fun. Playful. I looked in the mirror, took the picture, and felt like I had just captured a “one in a million” shot of myself. Maybe I had.

I found myself staring at this photo, feeling quite proud of what I’d put together. I began to admire the picture as if someone else had taken it, as if some other model was in the frame. I was no longer seeing myself. I was enjoying someone else’s latest photoshoot. As I looked, I thought to myself, “I’ve seen this girl before, maybe in older photographs or online, or maybe in person a time or two...” I couldn’t quite remember who she was or how I knew her, all I knew was that it was her, and she was standing right there, in my mirror…and she was stunning. I stared at every detail; her face, her body; the polka dots, heels, pants, the sun hat (I could never, ever, pull off a sun hat, but she could). She was short, cute, curvy; and she smiled.“She is so beautiful,” I thought. I loved everything about her. I wanted to be her. 

Feeling inspired, I looked once again in my mirror, and I suddenly realized I was looking at myself. It was me I had been admiring. It was me I called stunning. It was me, the entire time. The self-shaming girl was lifting up everything about herself. Negativity was set aside and self love took its place. I had finally found my photoshoot outfit. But, the thing that mattered most that day, was that I remembered who I was, and I, I had just called myself beautiful…and I was beautiful, curves and all…