The Reflection Yet To Be Seen

I saw a video today that simply said:

“You have to water yourself until you feel like you again. Not the version of you surviving. Not the version of you exhausted. Not the version that kept showing up empty. You have to water yourself until you recognize your reflection again. You have to water yourself until you can love yourself again without conditions, without punishment.” - Jay Jay Douglas

Only twenty-seven seconds into the video, and those words hit me like a wave. A heavy wave that moved through my body so suddenly that it almost brought tears to my eyes.

I have always avoided mirrors.

But what if I have never recognized the person in them?

What if the version of myself I have always known I could be is someone I have never actually met? Someone I have only ever felt trying to escape from inside of me.

What if my nervous system has done nothing but survive for as long as I can humanely remember? For as long as I can remember, through the unknown trauma that sometimes makes my mind forget.

What if, for my whole life, I had seen who I could be in my head, but every time I looked in the mirror, I felt like an imposter? I replayed every single conversation over in my head, wondering if I said the wrong thing or said too much. Feeling guilty for simply existing, for taking up space, for being in rooms I never felt welcome in.

I hear people say all the time that they wish they could go back to a time when they felt confident in their bodies.

But the truth is, I have never had a moment like that to return to. Even when I was finally what I thought I always wanted to be, skinny enough to fit into a size four dress, I was battling anorexia and convincing myself nothing was wrong with it as long as the tag said small.

What if I have never felt rested?
What if I have always shown up empty?
What if I have never recognized myself?

What if I have never loved myself without conditions or without punishment?

Maybe I never loved myself at all because I never knew who I was. Maybe I loved parts of myself, but never all of them.

I always saw the woman I could be, that I could love, but I never knew how to get there.

From a very young age, I had this image in my head, a powerful, fit, tattooed woman singing country music in Nashville, Tennessee.

I will give you a hint. None of those things have changed in the reflection I am working toward. If anything, I have only added to it.

The foundation has always been the same.

And as I accomplish pieces of that vision, it will simply grow.

Over the years, I have added more to the picture of who I want to be. A strong, present mama who teaches her babies how to be humble and kind, who leads by example through accountability, forgiveness, and the courage to apologize. A woman who builds her house and her home. A businesswoman who creates something meaningful and helps people see the beauty in the littlest of things. A woman who travels the world, experiencing every walk of life and witnessing and capturing God’s creation with her own eyes and her camera. A loving wife in a biblical marriage built on peace, respect, and sacrifice. A homesteader, building a life that feels intentional and rooted.

The vision has gotten bigger, but the feeling behind it has always been the same.

Sometimes, when I am working with clients, I will write paragraph after paragraph into the AI photo creator, trying to create an example image of the idea I have in my head. I will describe the lighting, mood, textures, environment, and the emotion I want the image to convey. I try to take something that only exists in my mind and turn it into something someone else can see.

But even then, it is still just an example. It is never the exact image that lives in my head.

Becoming who we are meant to be feels a lot like that.

For years, I have had the inspiration of who I am meant to become living in my mind. I can describe her. I can feel her. I can picture the way she moves through life.

But no one else can see her yet.

I can’t just show people a photo and say, "This is who I am becoming."

I can’t hand them a finished image and expect them to understand the vision fully.

They would have to imagine it.

And the truth is, most people will not.

But that is okay because at the end of the day, it is not their life to imagine.

It’s mine. Just for me.

I am the one who gets to dream it up. I am the one who gets to write the description. I am the one who gets to draw the blueprint.

And someday, instead of trying to explain the vision, people will simply meet the result.

I have always felt this strange, heavy presence when meeting certain strangers. A sudden wave that tells me they will someday be a part of my life in a meaningful way. Every time I have felt that I have never been wrong.

That is the same feeling I have about the future version of myself.

She will be a huge part of my life.

I just haven’t met her yet.

But I am getting closer to meeting her every day.

The tattoos are a small thing in the grand scheme of everything, but they might be the most noticeable.

From the outside looking in, people probably think wow she just keeps getting tattoos.

But I know exactly when I will stop.

I am simply creating the artwork I have always envisioned for my real body. The body I am going to spend the rest of my life in. And we are not quite done yet ;)

One day, the project will be complete.

Just like one day I will look in the mirror and be happy with the body I get to live life in.

One day the quiet things I am doing right now will pay off.

One day I will look in the mirror and say yes that is me.

That is the woman who has always been inside me, trying to get out.

The version of me that no one has ever fully seen, because I pushed her away for so long, or maybe I didn’t push her away intentionally, but simply forgot about her for a while. A while longer than I would like to admit. Giving to everyone else from an empty cup and wondering why I could never be happy with my body, and why my mind never felt at peace. Wondering why I couldn't love myself when I tried to forget my own existence, tried to distract myself by trying to be the person everyone else needed.

But now is the time.

Now every day I can feel myself getting closer to recognizing my reflection.

Closer to letting people see the person I have always been underneath the anxiety, the fear, the pain, and the years of neglecting myself without realizing it.

For the first time in my life, I am starting to like what I see in the mirror.

I am starting to like my mindset. I am starting to like who I am becoming.

Every day I spend choosing things that are better for me. Choosing peace. Choosing gratitude. Choosing God. Setting boundaries. Reflecting on hard topics. Thinking before speaking. Speaking with intention. Being disciplined. Being consistent. And none of it is perfect, but damn is it better. Every. Single. Day.

All the things that once felt impossible feel easier than the alternative.

And I have finally realized something.

I cannot save everyone else. I can’t change anyone else.

But I can save myself, and I can change myself.

And maybe just maybe I can become the reflection I have always wanted to see and the reflection my kids will grow up seeing.

I pray that in finding myself and creating that reflection, I can truly love myself without conditions and without punishment.

I pray I become someone who is not just surviving but living.

Someone who no longer accepts breadcrumbs as a full meal or idolizes the bare minimum.

I pray I become the woman who has boundaries and refuses to sacrifice her peace for anything. Who finds peace in every day.

And most of all, I pray that in becoming her, I do it in time for my children to learn something I did not learn soon enough.

I hope they see their reflections much earlier in life than I ever did.

Not just to see them but to love them.

To love who they are in every phase of their lives.

I am grateful for everything that broke me.

I am grateful for every blessing.

And strangely enough, I am grateful for all of the pain that forced me to shed the skins of my past selves so I could become the version of myself I am today and the version of myself I will keep becoming.

I cannot wait for the day I get to look in the mirror and say, “Yes, that’s me.”

And while body dysmorphia is hard, there is something strangely hopeful about it too.

Because when your perception of yourself is always shifting, one day you might wake up and the change will catch you completely by surprise.

Someday, maybe I will still try to avoid a mirror out of habit.

But then I will catch a glimpse.

And in that small moment, I will realize all the work I have been doing has finally brought me face to face with myself.

I will take a deep breath.

I will smile.

And I will feel a kind of gratitude I cannot even imagine yet.

Then I will go on with my day, continuing the path that made me brave enough to look in the mirror in the first place.

And I will never be afraid of my reflection again.

Thank you for being here,

Kaitlyn