I moved cities at the start of the year and I just never got around to buying a mirror, and then I fell out of the habit of looking at my body on the regular.
There’s a little mirror in my bathroom above my vanity, so I was always able to check my hair and makeup, but for months on end I’ve just been wandering around blissfully unaware if I’m sporting a giant camel toe.
And honestly, it’s been bloody liberating.
For years I've had a love/hate relationship with mirrors. I needed to look in the mirror each morning to feel secure enough in my appearance to leave the house, but from then on I would avoid mirrors almost incessantly, averting my eyes when I walked past shop windows and cringing when I accidentally caught a glimpse of my reflection on my phone.
Then last night I had a brand new, full length mirror delivered to my apartment. It's big, imposing and kind of terrifies me.
I unpacked it, wavering between excitement and fear. I was excited I was finally going to be able to put together some new outfits in front of a mirror, but I was worried about how the introduction of this new mirror was going to affect my relationship with my body.
Lindy West Isn’t Afraid To Take Up Space. Post continues...
After I unpacked the mirror, I spent some time looking at myself in it. I was surprised to find that my body hasn't changed in the last seven months - I haven't put on weight and, somewhat disappointingly, I haven't miraculously dropped a whole bunch of kilos without noticing either.