Objects in the Rearview Mirror May Appear Larger Than They Are

Turning 16.  What a milestone.  Not only considered to be "Sweet Sixteen," it is the year when a girl in New York, like me, can obtain her driver's permit.  After easily passing the written examination, I was awarded my ticket to drive--with adult supervision, of course.

I quickly learned that driving is nothing like the rules laid out in the driver's manual. The anxiety, awkwardness of multitasking, and quick decision making were not issues covered in the booklet.  Despite all of this, I forged ahead, anticipating a whole new era of freedom and independence.

A new driver learns quickly not to trust the rearview mirrors.  Cars have blind spots, yes, and rearview mirrors help to give sight to those areas, but one cannot rely solely on those mirrors.  It may be the angle at which the mirrors are positioned, or it may be the materials used, the objects in the rearview always appear closer than they actually are.  To a driver, a young inexperienced driver, who must make instant decisions, the distorted image in those mirrors serve simply as a guide.  One must remember to look both ways over one's shoulder as well as the mirror adjacent to the steering wheel.  Ignoring all of that data could cause an accident.  And, no one wants an accident to occur.

What does this vignette have to do with eating disorders?  Everything.  

While standing naked in front of the mirror, I would scrutinize every inch of my body.  Almost magically before my eyes, I would see my thighs enlarge.  Pinch fat around my middle.  See bulges, sags, and cellulite, the image in the mirror slapping me for not working out harder and eating less.

While walking on the sidewalk, I stared not straight ahead, but sideways, praying that the images reflected back to me in storefront mirrors wouldn't betray me.  But they did.  Always I saw a big girl, too big to be worthy of love.

While trying on pants, shirts, shorts, or gasp! bathing suits, the mirror reminded me of my imperfection, the thickness and space of my body.

And, I believed everything I saw because I saw it with my own two eyes.  It never once occurred to me that the mirror, and my eyes, could be wrong.

I wish mirrors came with warning labels like the rearview mirrors on cars.  Imagine walking into a dressing room at Macy's and reading "Objects in the dressing room mirror may appear larger than they are."  It would be terrifying at first to know that one would look bigger, but on some level, wouldn't it be freeing to know that the image staring back at you was not real, not the one the rest of the world saw?

When people with eating disorders look into mirrors, we don't realize that the angle of the mirror (our negative perspective) or the materials from which it's made (our life experiences) distort the reflection.  We assume that our eyes tell us the truth.  We ignore the mirror adjacent to the steering wheel and refuse to look both ways over our shoulders.  In other words, we tune out compliments from others, the warnings from loved ones that we look weak, pale, and ill.  We distract ourselves from the noise of our bodies, growling from hunger and groaning in pain, and focus only an image that is distorted.  We refuse to acknowledge that image is even distorted.

We would never do this driving.  It could get us killed.

So, too, can believing the distortions.

Part of recovery entails a willingness to consider that the image we see in the mirror is a distorted amalgamation of our dark inner voices, trying desperately to cling tight.  We have to be willing to look at  the mirror and say, "I am beautiful," "I am worthy," "I deserve life."

For me it means telling that pesky anorexic voice to shove it, while I gasp at the size of my thighs.  It means taking a deep breath, looking straight into the mirror, and audibly saying, "my thighs are not big, they're beautiful, look at how strong they are."  If the eating disorder could condition us to believe we were fat and ugly and worthless, recovery can just as well condition us to do the opposite.

But, first, we must acknowledge the distortion.

Do not give up the fight.  Recovery is possible.  Just remember, objects in the rearview mirror WILL appear larger than they are.

Cheers!