Mirror, Mirror...
My Face Changed—And So Did My Mirror Talk
A love story between a woman and her evolving reflection.
I used to stand in front of the mirror and play a silent game of spot-the-difference.
Smile softer. Chin higher. Eyes lifted.
I wasn’t admiring—I was managing.
Managing the softening jawline.
The creases that used to vanish with sleep.
The freckles turning to sunspots.
But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing flaws and started seeing stories.
✦ This face has lived.
She’s held back tears in boardrooms.
She’s burst into laughter in grocery store aisles.
She’s kissed babies, bitten her tongue, raised her brows in disbelief, and smiled so hard it left marks.
This isn’t the face I had at 25—and thank God for that.
That face had no idea who she was.
This one?
She’s seasoned. She’s sexy. She’s seen things—and she’s still here.
✦ The Mirror Isn’t the Enemy
The problem was never my face.
It was the voice in my head telling me I was supposed to mourn its changes.
That I had a narrow window to feel beautiful—and it was closing.
But let me tell you something radical:
Beauty doesn’t vanish with age.
It evolves. It deepens. It stops asking for approval and starts giving its own damn permission.
Now, I stand in front of the mirror like this is a woman I’m proud to know.
✦ The New Mirror Talk
Old script:
“Cover the dark circles.”
“Lift the lid.”
“Hide the lines.”
New script:
“Wow. You look lived-in and radiant.”
“That smirk? That’s power.”
“Hello, cheekbones. Hello, softness. Hello, you.”
This is what happens when the goal stops being to erase time—and starts being to honor it.
✦ Beauty That Feels Like Home
I still love a bold lip. A little shimmer. A face cream that makes me feel like I’m putting on satin.
But I no longer wear makeup to fix anything.
I wear it like a painter picking her palette: to play, to feel, to express.
My beauty routine isn’t about becoming someone else.
It’s about returning to myself.
Aging changed my face.
But changing my mirror talk?
That changed my life.
Oh, and water is your new best friend.
Lust Darling
For women who meet their reflection with a wink, not a critique.