Broken Eyes

Looking at the question of how to move into a healthier 2021 posed so many answers. Some answers were the words of my grandmother echoing in my mind, smiling as she tells me I am a beautiful girl. I wish she was still here with me today, so I could ask her if I am also beautiful woman. The voice of my year ten sports teacher yelling at me to try harder. Followed by the gentle conversation with my friend Lucy, in gymnasium changerooms, telling me it is okay. Trying to convince me that I didn't need to be the fastest or the skinniest. And then telling my that Mr Jenston is just a bully. I cried a lot to Lucy during my high school years. I don't think Mr Jenston ever knew.

There was my mother's gentle push to lose fifteen or twenty kilos and telling me I might feel better if I did. Loving someone doesn't disguise the hurt they can cause with these, kind of passing comments. I know she loves me.

And my own questions of how I plan to move into a healthier year ahead.

I looked in the mirror searching for the answers. All I could see were tired eyes. Tired eyes that still looked hurt form all the years of pain. Both physical and emotional pain. Eyes that everyone comments are so blue and beautiful Eyes that hide the truth.

I smile at myself in the mirror and then begin to cry. I see coffee, stained teeth and wrinkles. Not smile lines. Actual wrinkles.

My dimples from when I was a young girl are no longer cute. They are just reminders of how easy life used to be, and all the fun and laughter was in my life as child. I ask the mirror, where is that fun and laughter now.

And it was in that moment, standing in front of my bathroom mirror, crying, when my teenager daughter walked in. “Mum, why are you crying”, she was worried. I could tell by her awkward smile and soft voice; a contrast to her usual sarcastic, humorous personality.

“Sweetheart, mum is just tired. I’m okay”. She gave me a hug and we looked at our reflections in the mirror. As she smiled I continued to cry and I realised that I never wanted her to have to stand alone staring in her bathroom mirror with broken eyes.

My answer to a healthier 2021 was staring back at me. It would begin with looking in the mirror each morning and being proud of the woman staring back at me.

Healthy lives are portrayed as fit bodies running around the lake at the break of day. The woman walking her dog and looking fabulous in her gym sweats and sports bra. The women who has survived breast cancer, lost twenty five kilos, given up smoking, admitted she drinks too much and is now a life coach on line; motivating others to be healthy and happy. To give more and eat less. Exercise more and eat less. To try harder and eat less; to sleep more and eat less; and the list goes on.

The broken eyes staring at me yesterday morning, when I was about to give up on trying to find my plan for a healthier 2021, begged me, to look back with love, pride and acceptance. My daughter and I stood in that bathroom for what felt like a really long time. The shadows outside the window started to move across to a new hour, the wind changed and we could here the trees outside brush the window pane. She never faltered in her love. At fourteen, she stood beside me with maturity and understanding and whispered to me as my tears continued to fall, “Mum, tomorrow is a new day. Let’s just keep looking forward.”

This morning, I looked in the mirror and smiled at the new healthier me.