mirror, mirror on the wall

It is funny, how our minds work.  Without fail, ever since I read my friend, Darcie’s post last year, about how a simple eyebrow wax went terribly wrong, I can’t lay down on the waxing table without thinking of her fiasco.


As I close my eyes in preparation for the hot wax to be spread across my brow, her words float across my mind.  I always send up a silent prayer to the beauty gods that I will leave the nail salon unscathed.  My prayers have worked.  That is until Wednesday.


I was planning on waiting to get my brows looked after on Friday morning.  After all, I was off from work, and I figured that it would be the perfect time for a little beauty pick-me-up.  But, as I drove past the nail salon Wednesday evening, and noticed that I managed to make it there before their closing time, I couldn’t resist stopping in.  After all, my eyebrows were so neglected that my new unibrow was scaring me!


I was immediately ushered into the back and the lady that always does my waxing went to work.  It seemed to have taken longer than usual, but I wasn’t concerned, not really.  After all, I knew I had a forest on my forehead.  I just tried to relax and put Darcie out of my overworking mind. 


Unlike all the times before, when the woman was finished with the wax, she didn’t hand me a mirror to check out her handy work.  A little synapse fired off in my brain… Didn’t that happen to Darcie?  But, I didn’t stress over it.  I discounted my fear… After all, it was late.  The salon was closing. The woman just wanted to save the time and go home to her family.


I paid for my wax, and went into my car to drive home.  I pulled down the sun visor and glanced in the mirror and I saw it.  One eyebrow was perfect.  The other, was so over worked that it was crooked, making me look like I was raising it in that look of shock or confusion.   I blinked my eyes in rapid succession, trying to erase the vision.  Maybe I was doing it….  I relaxed and looked again.  Nope.  One eyebrow was totally arched up.


Since there was no excess hair to remove, fixing wasn’t an option, so I drove home.  My husband, Marc, was sitting in the den when I arrived, Alex the cat on his lap, sipping a glass of wine.  After a quick kiss hello, I commanded him to look at me.


“Oh, you had your work done,” he said in a casual, nonchalant way.


“Yeah,” I answered.  Anger and panic seeping through my tone, “and look what they did!”


Marc peered in for a closer look.  “What?”  He questioned.


“My eyebrow!  Look what she did.  It is totally crooked and I look like I am in shock.”


“Hmm,” Marc muttered as he nodded his head.  “You are right, but I wouldn’t have noticed it if you didn’t point it out to me.”


The night passed.  As Marc and I were getting ready for bed, I started staring at my reflection in the mirror, disgusted.  “Look at this!”  I commanded.


And Marc did.  “You know, if you didn’t keep telling me how bad your brow looks, I wouldn’t even realize there is a problem.  But, if you keep reminding me about it, you bring my attention to the fact that it is crooked, and then I see it.  So, maybe you should try to forget it…”


As always, I hate to admit it… He has a point….


Do you see yourself the same way others see you, or are you focused on your perceived flaws?



In order to comment on BlogHer.com, you'll need to be logged in. You'll be given the option to log in or create an account when you publish your comment. If you do not log in or create an account, your comment will not be displayed.

Related Posts

Recent Posts by feelingbeachie