When I was a young teen, the house that I lived in had 3 giant mirrors hanging side by side covering two walls over the bathroom counter. I remember staring at "myself" staring back at me in the mirror. I remember this because there was something odd about the reflection that didn't feel right and I couldn't put a finger on it. It wasn't me, but logic dictates that it was me, but yet it wasn't- I felt no connection to what I saw. So everytime I entered the bathroom, I'd stare into the eyes searching for an answer. I got to where I hated looking into mirrors because everytime I did, the more it didn't make sense.

This lasted for years until it dawned on me that it wasn't me that I was seeing, even though I've been looking at it for 45 years. I finally came to terms with what's going on with me knowing about alters and stuff. Depending on the alter up front, I'd have varied opinions about the reflection from disgusted to admiration.

I still don't care for it, but it's not as bad as it was. We've accepted the fact that we are parts and it was our bodies reflection that we are seeing, even though it still feels so wrong. Today though, I avoid looking into the eyes because I now know what I'm looking at. It's still not me....but it is. That's so hard to say.

How are y'all handling looking into a mirror? What happens? Do you like/hate it? Have and how did you accept it?