Looking Into My Mirror
- Jade
- Mar 23, 2025
- 5 min read
As I stand in front of the mirror or see photos of myself, I find myself picking myself apart.
"Your cheeks are too heavy. Your eyebrows are not symmetrical. You’re boxy. You have skin pudging out of your bra..."And the criticism continues—this was the G-rated version. The real dialogue is much more intense.
My husband, Kai, often says that if CPS could hear our inner dialogue, we’d be arrested for abuse. The sad reality is that I know I’m not alone in this.
I can’t quite pinpoint when this self-hate started, but I know it’s been with me for as long as I can remember. It feels normal, acceptable, and, well... true.
Over the years, my inner dialogue and the way I see myself in the mirror have shifted. Sometimes, I even have moments where I like or accept what I see—but it wasn’t always this way.
When I first started dating my husband, I would turn off the lights before using the bathroom so I wouldn’t catch a glimpse of myself. Even the smallest reflection would instantly shatter my confidence and make it hard to open up. When you can’t look at yourself, you’re certainly not allowing someone else to truly see you—not just on a physical level, but emotionally and spiritually. This ties deeply into receptivity—but that’s a story for another time.
Interestingly, I met my husband two years before we started dating at an Ayahuasca ceremony. During that time, he received and wrote a prayer for me without really knowing me. He titled it "A Prayer of Looking Into My Mirror"—a powerful reflection that encompassed my journey so well, and one that I’m still navigating today. Maybe someone reading this will feel inspired or touched by the prayer, just as I was.
The journey of self-acceptance and self-love has taken me through years of suffering—eating disorders, imbalanced exercise, and nutrition habits, and struggling to show up fully in my work and in the world. This challenge feels even more present as I age.
I remember being a pre-teen, self-conscious about my boobs and butt—or rather, my lack of them. I can still hear my best friend making fun of my flat chest and flat bum, and that was the first time I noticed my body was different from others. That moment of comparison in fifth grade stuck with me, and it carried me through high school, where my eating disorder began.
After having kids, I hated my post-baby body. Those feelings followed me through my twenties until I found fitness in my thirties. I made significant progress, and even faced my fears by competing in bodybuilding—pushing myself to get on stage despite the anxiety. It felt like I was growing through that period.
But while I was pushing my edges and growing stronger, I was also reinforcing an idealized way of looking—becoming hyper-focused on leanness and muscle definition. I poured more energy into my body and workouts than into life itself—and I missed out on so much.
Then I found Ayahuasca, which led me down a path of awakening—a remembrance of who I truly am. I started unraveling deep-seated beliefs and patterns, and here I am, six years later—free from my eating disorder, free from so much... yet still navigating these waters. Now, the challenge of aging adds another layer to my journey. I got better at accepting and loving parts of myself, and then—boom—age hit.
What inspired me to write this was my granddaughter’s 8th birthday party yesterday. It was a beautiful gathering—my children, my mom, and my dad all together. We were taking some rare family photos when two things happened.
First, my mom started frantically criticizing herself in every photo:"Ohhhhhhhh nooooo!" (in her English accent) "Uggggg, it’s horrible—my face—uckkkkk!"
I abruptly said, "MOM, STOP. You hating yourself makes me hate myself—and then my girls don’t like themselves. It just keeps getting passed on.
She got a bit defensive and replied, "Well, where do you think I get it from?" She was referring to my nanny—her mom.
"I know," I said. "It just keeps getting passed on..."
I could see it hit her.
A few moments later, my dad—bless his heart—tried to take a close-up photo of my face, like he always does. Still feeling the weight of my mom’s complaints, I covered my face and said, "Noooo, don’t take a photo."
Later, my mom texted me one of the photos my dad had snuck. She wrote, "You are effortlessly beautiful as am I ..."And then: "It’s my new way of thinking—hope it goes to you."
I think it landed.
I pray it did.
This journey of self-loathing is so deeply ingrained—and it’s heartbreaking to see how it passes from one generation to the next.
May we find the beauty in who we are without the need for external validation—without needing to change ourselves or how we perceive our bodies. May we break the cycle and teach the next generation how to see their own beauty.
For those who feel called to read this beautiful prayer below, written by Kai Karrel, please share what this might have brought up for you.
A Prayer of Looking into My Mirror
Dear God, as I observe my reflected image, I often focus on my impurities and imperfections. I am inspired to be proactive in transforming my body, but often fall into thoughts of vanity and shame. I judge this process of beautification and fall into false admiration conflicting with pride. In so doing and in so seeking, I constantly compare my state of self with that of another.
Help me see my body as your Divine Temple; help me relate to the relationship I form with my temple and spirit in a healthy and balanced way. As I observe these teachings, I realize that my beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder – you… and me… I wish to empower myself and my form so my spirit can soar and inspire others to take better care of these Divine Vessels of Light.
Dear Angels of Beauty and Peace, awaken my fiery spirit, and inspire me to expand my sense of expansion. Help me abandon my fear and satiate my desire to appear differently as I stand in front of this celestial mirror. I am the light that illuminates the path; I am a symbol of harmony and the sense of eternal peace. My body is my temple, and my spirit is not limited to shape or form.
Help me age with grace, and remember that this body I found myself in, will soon be given to the earth from which it came. Remind me that vanity has nothing to do with external beauty but is merely a shadow of comparison and pride. Grant that I may walk in beauty; grant that I may share my transformative journey with my brothers and sisters.
Dear God, my beauty is but a reflection of your infinite power; my presence nothing but a calling for your grace. I am the flame of the angelic force, and my heart the altar of your eternal love. I raise my chin and close my eyes; I breathe in the sun and bathe in the shining of the crescent moon. I am filled with gratitude and live my days with awe and ever-lasting peace.
And so it is,
Thank You, Life.
Comments