Learning to look myself in the eye… again
A reflection on mirrors, change, and the quiet power of self-compassion
I have many stories of how self-compassion helps us make and manage deep and lasting change — from the many people I’ve coached over the years.
Those stories are deeply private. They’re not mine to tell.
So instead, I want to share one of my own.
I’ve shared Part One before — a story about mirrors and self-perception. Part Two happened later. And, like a mirror, it helped me reflect.
Part One: Noticing
For a very long time, I’d had a habit I wasn’t fully aware of.
Whenever I caught sight of myself in the mirror — especially when no one else was around — I would pull a face. A distorted, mocking grimace. Not playful. Not kind. Not neutral. Just… unpleasant.
The word I would have used at the time was ugly.
It was unconscious. Automatic. A flicker of shame turned outward, worn on my own face.
A form of self-harm that left no visible scars — but it said something.
It said: You don’t get to be seen kindly.
Then one day, cleaning my teeth, I noticed what I was doing.
I caught myself — not just pulling the face, but turning against myself. And because I’d been gently working with self-awareness and compassion in other areas of my life, something different happened.
I didn’t spiral into judgement.
I didn’t scold myself for being stupid or ridiculous.
Instead, I held myself gently and quietly said: It’s ok, my love. You don’t need to do that anymore.
From there, I began to practise seeing myself differently. Not through rose-tinted glasses. Not with forced positivity. Just… clearly. I chose to meet my own gaze. To release the urge to distort what I saw.
Slowly, over time, I began to greet my reflection like an old friend. Smiling. Sometimes laughing. Learning to look myself in the eye with the same kindness I offered others.
Part Two: Remembering
Many years later, came a time which brought its own set of challenges — some from the world around me, and some from within.
During one of the harder stretches, I caught myself almost doing it again.
It sounds ridiculous to write — I’m a woman in my fifties — and yet I could feel the familiar urge to grimace at myself in the mirror.
What surprised me wasn’t that the impulse returned. These patterns run deep.
What surprised me was how quickly I met myself with love.
Not frustration. Not shame. Just love.
With a foundation of self-compassion, I could see that a part of me was showing up — a part that believed the only way to get my attention was to appear distorted in the glass.
So I turned toward that part.
Gently. Curiously. Compassionately.
Remembering the importance of offering myself the same kindness I so readily offered others.
You may have your own version of this story.
Perhaps a critical inner voice that never rests?
A rigid self-denial that keeps you from enjoying what you love?
Beliefs that stop you saying what you need, or showing up as your full self?
Our stories are complex, tender, and varied. But the unifying thread is this: we can all turn toward ourselves with love.
Creating a foundation of self-compassion deepens our self-awareness — and with self-awareness comes our capacity not only to navigate change, but to choose our own direction of travel.