Harsh Light

The guest bathroom I’m using here doesn’t have any windows. The lighting in there isn’t the friendliest ever. Back home, I’m used to getting ready in ample natural light. Once the tinted moisturizer goes on, my face is all glowy; mascara applied and my eyes are all poppy, and a touch of some lip balm and I’m ready to go.

But in this bathroom, I put on the moisturizer and I could still see shadows and bags and …WTF, WRINKLES? I put on the mascara and I could see smudges and spots. I put on lip balm and all I can see is that I really should not have cancelled that waxing appointment.

I don’t have my hair products and my normally stick straight hair is a little dry and frizzy. My skin is dry, too, and I don’t know where the hell those bruises on my cleavage came from but I can blame one of three people (insert icy stare with raised eyebrow here).

When I look at my reflection in my parents’ house and I am not seeing the me I’m used to seeing reflected back at me.

And that’s how it goes, doesn’t it? I’m hiding who I really am when I’m here. I grew up wearing a mask, but now that I’ve been on my own for so long – putting the mask back on for three days on is uncomfortable.

I love my family. I’ve had a great life. I’m not trying to sound ungrateful for everything I’ve had – I am grateful.

I have to find a way to reconcile that this is a bathroom with no windows and harsh light, and once I step out into the natural light I’ll probably look just fine.

I guess what I’m saying is that sometimes you have to look at yourself in the harsh light and still find a way to like what you see.

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