Reflection

      It is really easy to form an ideal image of yourself in your mind if you avoid your reflection at all costs.    In my mind, I still look young and vibrant, and I look good much as the kitten does as it gazes into the mirror.   Like the kitten I find the reality of my appearance disturbing which is the main reason I avoid mirrors at all costs.   I am no beauty queen by any stretch of the imagination.  Still, my reflection won't break anyone's camera either.     People don’t normally vomit when they look at me or run screaming in the other direction, so hells bells, I can’t look that bad.  I often smile at strangers when out and about, and they smile back because smiles are contagious.  Smiling makes everyone wonder what I have been up to, and that is exactly what I want them to think!

       As much as I hate my reflection, I forced myself to gaze deeply into the mirror and really look at what I saw.  What I realized as I stared myself down is that the parents I lost so long ago, were there staring back at me.  I can see my mother’s features dominating the reflection-same hazel eyes, and face shape.  I can see her stubbornness and courage. If I look really closely I can even see a little of my Dad.   I experienced an epiphany of sorts.  I realized they haven‘t completely left me.  They are still here because they live in me.  Their genetics are firmly woven together within me making me the person I am.   They live in  my appearance, personality, and  in almost every facet…I can see the best parts of them in me.  I see their zest for life.  When I look past what I consider my damning faults, I see a person full of pi$$ and vinegar with a twinkle in her eye having a tad bit more fun than she should be.  I see a woman that can handle anything life throws at her because I have little choice to do anything else.  The realization is comforting.  Not only do they live on vividly in my memories, but through me in my actions and laughter.  

       Like Simba of the Disney classic “The Lion King” I looked in my reflection and found those who I thought had abandoned me and were lost forever.  I found the best part of me.  I found the giggly, sparkly person out shining the fat lady with the bad hair.  I found me and realized I am not half bad.  I can’t help but grin and celebrate my discovery until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Sick Longing to Look Different

       I have longed to look different all my life.   Unfortunately I don’t live in the land where plastic surgery is free or cheap or undertaken as easily as a trip to the doctor for a pi$$ test.  I often reason that G0d certainly must have known what HE was doing when he made me, right??  He is not supposed to screw up and is supposed to have it planned in all His divine creations.   I will admit when I was little I was cute, but then around the time I went into second grade, my looks went south.  The question remains “Why should I fool with His ultimate creation??”  I can’t imagine people paying big bucks to alter what G0d in all his wisdom created or to pay some doctor to inflict them with pain when it isn‘t required to save their  life.  The passage of time and my own experience has convinced me that  G0d has one sick sense of humor!

         As an adolescent teenager I longed for big ta ta’s .   I thought they would be the answer to all my problems.  Seriously!  If I had big knockers certainly I would have a boyfriend.  They would forget the fact that I had got knocked upside the head with the ugly stick a few times.   My chest would hit them right between the eyes like a great big focal point and they would be enamored of me at first glance.   They would then give me a chance and discover what a true gem I am!!  Screwed up I know, but that is what I thought.  I remember my mom filling me with the belief that if I ate tons of cauliflower my chest would bloom to gargantuan proportions.   I was willing to try anything at that point.  I wanted to change my clothes, my hair, and my face if it would help.  Everyone wants to have friends and be loved and accepted.  

 

        As I grew older I got over this longing.  It helped once men began to notice I was actually alive, and once I met my husband I no longer needed to worry.  Then one fine day I got pregnant.  Be careful what you wish for!! For me, pregnancy equaled spending my days with my head in the toilet from conception to cesarean section.  By the time the day came for the baby to be born,  all I wanted was to not be pregnant anymore.  I was tired of bringing up everything I ate to be voted on.  Once she was born, I changed my tune.  She was alive, and she was perfect!!  Even though I refused to breast feed after her birth, my hooters grew to gargantuan proportions.  Be careful what you wish for!!  All that longing had caused my hooters to grow the size of cow udders!!  Not only that, the rest of me grew right along with it.  Middle age spread descended and thin and trim left the building!!  

     A lot of ladies out there long to change their appearance to the point they are willing to pay some fool thousands of dollars to slice them and dice them and insert artificial Ta ta’s under their skin.  Ouch!!  I guess I just am not crazy about the whole pain factor enough to go under the knife if I really don’t have to.  So even though it would be nice to slice the things that stick out a tad to far off my body,  I know better than to long for my girls to be smaller.  With my luck, that longing would  get me breast cancer and a double mastectomy in my future.  I sure don’t long for that.  So I will cease my longing because it has only got me in trouble in the past and be happy with the way I am avoiding mirrors at every turn.   Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a truckers wife.