Geo and I headed out tonight to throw bowling balls with our pals Chad and Angie. In between my stunning attempts to perfect my grandma-throw style of bowling, we managed to work in some surprisingly insightful conversation. It started, much like all my conversations, as a weak attempt at a joke. I said something along the lines of Geo practicing his bowling technique in front of the mirror.
Me: Geo probably stares at himself in the mirror practicing bowling.
Geo: I used to practice Frisbee in front of the mirror...
Me: Hahaha, what a nerd. You're so vain.
Chad: Yeah, like "Oh yeah, look at how amazing my form looks."
Chad: I feel like that's the difference between men and women. Women look in a mirror and see a bunch of stuff they hate and men look in the mirror and are like "I look amazing."
Geo: For SURE. Like, you're standing there and thinking "I'm pretttttttty sure my muscles are bigger today and I haven't even DONE anything! I look GREAT."
And it's super true. Men look at a mirror like it's smeared in Vaseline and compliments. They see fuzzy versions of themselves that make them 100% confident (overly confident, some would argue). Women look in the mirror like it's a high school bully and pick themselves apart. What gives? (PSA: Bullies are the worst.)
I do lots of things in front of the mirror. I make faces. I stick out my gut. I will occasionally dance in front of it to see what would happen if I twerked without pants on. (Not pretty.) I'll stand there for several minutes examining my face wondering where it all went wrong. I'll pull sections of my hair to the front of the mirror to see if there's a gray hair. I'll stare at my eyebrows for 20 minutes, trying to figure out why they are so different. I'll jut my hip out in 10 different pairs of pants to see which ones make my hips look fattest and then set those pants on fire. I'll be brushing my teeth and find myself wondering if my pores are too big or my lips are too thin or my shoulders are uneven.
Geo will glance in the mirror for 25 seconds, confirm that his clothes are on in the right place, and then go about his day with confidence that he looks perfect.
How does this happen? How do men get nothing but confidence from a mirror when women get nothing but complexes? How come men don't look in the mirror and think "I look nothing like Ryan Gosling. I am nothing but hot garbage."? Also, do men even KNOW that they have pores? Probably not, because I've never heard of ANY man even mention them before.
I wonder if it all stems from that stupid fairy tale with that insulting mirror. I can't remember which one it is, but it's the one where some mean ol' hag is all like "Mirror on the wall, who's the prettiest one of all?" And the rude-ass mirror is like "Not you, lady. It's some milky-skinned blonde chick with a 10" waistline." RUDE! The mirror should have lied and been like "You're beautiful. I mean, there's some weird blonde girl, but she's just pretty in a different way. You are a strong, proactive woman who knows what she wants. Own it, girl!" See, people think that the witch lady WITH the mirror is the villain in that story. But no...in reality, all the evilness comes from the mirror.
I'm trying to think about a comparative story about men and mirrors, but all I can think of is that Michael Jackson song, and that lady was crazy. The point is that little boys are not taught that their mirror is judging them...girls are.
So, my point is that mirrors are the worst and men are the worst. And also fairy tales are the worst. But seriously, these giant pores on my earlobes are THE. WORST.