I have struggled with body image for most of my life.

Too muscular. Too heavy. Too thin. Too flat.

"Stuff your bra so I can see what you'd look like with big boobs." Skirt too short. Not short enough. Jeans too tight. Not tight enough. Dressed up to be flaunted in one relationship. Kept in a potato sack in the next.

"You're pretty. You'll never be beautiful." Yes. Said to me.

“Hairy Mary.” Kids taunted me about my very hairy arms, and the nickname stuck.

A lifetime of comments and comparisons made their way into my mind, settled into my beliefs, and eventually moved into the mirror.

The Foggy Mirror

Not long ago, I was staying in an old Airbnb while preparing for a training. The only mirror available was in the bedroom. It was streaked, a little foggy, and surrounded by less-than-flattering lighting.

I looked at myself and thought, "I look good." I don't look like the image in my head. Is it the mirror?

That same day, two people complimented my hair. “Your hair is gorgeous.” “I love your curls and the color.”

I have been struggling with my hair. My curls are become tighter, and so much grey. I am feeling older.

But in that foggy old mirror, I saw beauty.I liked how I looked.

Some mirrors show me every flaw. Some show me my beauty. Same face. So which reflection is true? Maybe the question isn’t whether the mirror is telling the truth. Maybe the question is: What do I already believe before I look into it?

Body dysmorphia is real. Thoughts repeated long enough begin to feel like truth. They become beliefs, and those beliefs influence what we see, how we feel, and the choices we make.

But a thought can feel true without being the truth. My truth isn't always reality. The mirror reflects back what I already believe. So is it truth? Or is it distorted?

When the Scale Started Talking

In my early thirties, I was with someone who was very vocal about other people's bodies and very controlling about mine: what I wore, how much I showed, how much I didn't.

There was a woman he worked with. Beautiful. Fit. I admired her, and I said so. His response was, “She’s fat.”

I was shocked. She was beautiful. But something clicked into place that day, and the message that had been running quietly in the background for years finally had words: Don't gain weight. If you do, you'll be unattractive.

The fear of gaining weight became an obsession.

Around that same time, I got a kidney infection and was bedridden for two weeks. I lost weight from being sick, and for the first time, the number on the scale made me feel good about myself.

Then it became about keeping the weight off. Then losing a little more. I was terrified of being hungry. I ate just enough to keep my head clear, and I kept shrinking.

And I still couldn't see it.

I’d look in the mirror. I had two kids, had undergone a C-section, and definitely did not have abs of steel. All I could see was that I had more weight I needed to lose. People began telling me I was too thin. I tuned them out. I was disappearing, and the mirror was still telling me I hadn't done enough.

One night, I turned on Netflix and watched a true story about a young woman with an eating disorder. Her body eventually began shutting down, and she ended up in the emergency room fighting for her life.

I freaked out.

Because her story was my story.

Some moments rock you. They drop you. They make you realize: If I don’t change, this could be me.

The next morning I reached out for help.I met with a nutritionist and a therapist. I followed an eating plan and began doing the work to heal my relationship with food and my body.

I still struggle at times with the voices in my head. Some days, I have a strong hold on them. Other days, I don’t want to look into the mirror because I’m afraid of what I will see.

But I never acted on those eating-disorder compulsions again.

The Mirror Lies When Someone Else Holds the Scoreboard

Here is what I finally understood. The lying mirror and the comparison trap aren't two problems. They're the same distortion wearing two faces. The mirror shows me every flaw because I’m measuring against a borrowed standard - someone else’s body, someone else’s highlight, someone else’s life.

Comparison is sneaky. It doesn't walk up and attack your confidence. It quietly moves your scoreboard.

One second you're measuring against your own standard - your own values, effort, growth, and progress.

The next, you are measuring yourself by someone else’s appearance, social-media engagement, vacation, business growth, relationships, body, home, or perceived success.

Without realizing it, you have handed someone else the power to determine whether you are doing well.

And that is a scoreboard you can never win.

Comparison causes us to forget that we are looking at a carefully selected moment in someone else’s life while standing in the middle of our own messy, unedited reality.

We compare our behind-the-scenes to their highlight reel.
We compare our beginning to their chapter twenty.
We compare what we know about ourselves to what we assume about them.

And then we wonder why we feel like we are losing.

Admiration or Jealousy

I actively work on turning comparison into admiration.

To look at someone and say, "That's amazing. I respect what they have and who they are, and it inspires me.What can I learn from them?"

Jealousy says something different. "I wish I had that, and I feel threatened, insecure, or less than because I don’t."

The difference is what the feeling produces in you. Admiration creates inspiration, curiosity, respect, and motivation. Jealousy creates insecurity, resentment, suspicion, or a desire to diminish the other person.

Sometimes you can feel both at once. You can genuinely admire someone while also recognizing that something about their life, appearance, or success has touched an insecurity in you.

That doesn't make you a bad person. It just reveals an unmet desire, or a place that still needs healing.

I started asking myself - "Do I want to learn from them or do I want what they have to be taken away?" That question exposes what comparison is creating in me.

Someone else’s beauty does not diminish mine.
Someone else’s success does not steal mine.
Someone else’s opportunity does not mean there is no opportunity left for me.

There is room for both of us.

Keeping My Own Scoreboard

I cannot always control the first thought that enters my mind when I look into the mirror. But I can decide which thoughts I continue rehearsing. I can decide which beliefs I reinforce. I can control the work I do and the person I am becoming.

I want to be healthy, so I move my body, drink water, nourish it well, and limit the things that do not serve me.

I want to be a writer, so I write something every day - whether it’s a journal entry, a blog, a paragraph in my book, or a heartfelt message to someone on my mind.

I want to be a reader, so I read at least one page - a devotion, an article, a chapter, or something that helps me grow.

I want to be connected, so I reach out to someone every day. I say hello to a stranger at the grocery store. I send the text. I make the call. I schedule the conversation. I choose to be authentic.

None of those things can be measured by the number on a scale or the number on a feed. They are measured by alignment.

Am I living today like the person I want to become?
Am I honoring my values?
Am I doing what I said I would do?
Am I growing from where I began?

At the end of the day, I ask myself one simple question: What did I do today that I am proud of?

I focus on what I can control.
I celebrate the wins.
I keep my own scoreboard.

The mirror still lies to me some days. But I've stopped letting it keep score.

If you're fighting the food-and-mirror battle right now, you don't have to fight it alone. The National Alliance for Eating Disorders offers a free, confidential, therapist-staffed helpline at 1-866-662-1235.