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A better reflection in the mirror

A better reflection in the mirror

When I was in high school, my friend and I would play this twisted game called “what would you change?” Like that scene in Mean Girls where the pink-clad clique huddles around a mirror critiquing every minute detail of their appearances, we would go back and forth randomly listing physical features we’d put under the knife if we could.

“My nose! Ugh, just a little lift would do so much,” my friend would start.

I’d counter, “Look at this saggy thing,” pulling on the skin under my chin, “I look like a rooster!”

I realize now how disturbing this scene was. Here were two perfectly healthy young girls who should be looking forward to possibilities of someday owning their own businesses, leading a family, or (here’s an optimistic long shot) running for office. Instead of these lofty pursuits, one of the only aspirations we had was to go through painful surgery to alter our physical appearances.

Some adolescents aren’t even waiting to reach adulthood to begin making changes. In 2012, the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery reported 130,502 cosmetic plastic surgical procedures on patients under the age of 18. While this number has decreased over the years, it still struck me as extreme when I noticed that 52 percent of the 3,576 breast augmentation procedures performed on girls were for purely cosmetic reasons.

I wish I could go back to those high school bleachers and speak with my adolescent self, armed with a mirror and some “wisdom” gained since.

“Look at yourself,” I’d say brandishing a mirror, “what exactly is so terribly wrong that you would risk the possibility of infection, scaring — even death — to change?”

Commence the overwhelming list of insecurities: My chin, my boobs, my thighs, my nose…

“Stop!” I would yell, “You’re not really looking. You have a functioning body, no long-term illness, no painful scars or burns. For God’s sake girl, you can do the splits, enjoy that while you can.”

Cue the punch line…

“You’re fine.” I would say, “You’re healthy. Now be happy.”

I wish I could say these things to my high school self and save her years of insecurity. I wish I could say these things to current students — these 130,502 girls and boys sitting on the bleachers formulating their own lists of perceived inadequacies. I’d tell them to enjoy their youth, and I’d tell them to focus on their intellectual successes and personal relationships rather than these tiny “faults” that no one but they can see. I’d love to tell them this, but I’d also like to avoid any confrontation with school security and angry parents.

What I can do — we all can do — is repeat this mantra every time I gaze into the mirror and begin the scrutiny of my chin, thighs, and boobs: “You’re fine. You’re healthy. Now be happy.” In doing so, I hope that I will save my 30-something self 10 years from now the pain that I currently feel reflecting on years wasted in insecurities and turned-down opportunities because I was too self-conscious to participate fully.

Although I slip from time to time, I have hope that I’m slowly growing, if only for this one reason: Gone are my dreams for a new chin or nose. I’ve replaced them instead with dreams of travel, love and adventure.

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