When I Looked in the Mirror and Didn’t Recognise Myself

Recently, I’ve been nursing an injury that has slowly been healing. While that might not sound particularly significant, it has had a much bigger impact on me than I first realised.

For months, I haven’t been able to run.

Running has been part of my life since I was around seventeen or eighteen years old. I’ve always been active and health-conscious. I trained as an aerobics instructor, I’ve exercised most days of my life, and staying fit and healthy has always been important to me. When I became a mother, particularly having children later in life, maintaining my health became even more meaningful because I wanted to be able to keep up with them and be there for them as I grew older.

Running wasn’t just exercise for me. It was something much deeper.

It was my release.

It was where I processed emotions, cleared stress, worked through challenges, and found peace. Looking back now, I can see that running wasn’t simply keeping my body healthy—it was helping me regulate my nervous system and release the pressures of everyday life. I didn’t realise how much I relied on it until it was gone.

Recently, I was invited to a guild dinner with the bell ringers. It was one of those lovely occasions where you get to dress up, put on makeup, and feel a little special. Most of my life is spent in fitness clothes, shorts, T-shirts, or jeans, so opportunities like this are a real treat. I think many women will understand exactly what I mean.

Years ago, I spent several years jive dancing and, as a result, I accumulated a wardrobe full of beautiful dresses. I thought it would be easy—I would simply choose one of my favourites and wear that.

Two nights before the event, I pulled them out and started trying them on. Not one of them fit.

Suddenly, I found myself staring at a body that had changed in ways I hadn’t fully acknowledged. There was extra weight around my chest and upper body that had never been there before. At least, not outside of pregnancy. The only other time my body had changed so dramatically was after having my second daughter, when I became pregnant again just ten weeks later and gained five stone. My body had a lot to cope with during that period. But this was different.

This time, I wasn’t prepared for the shock.

Part of me immediately switched into problem-solving mode.

“It’s okay,” I thought. “I’ll buy a new dress.”

So that’s exactly what I did. My daughter and I went shopping together and found a beautiful dress. It wasn’t even particularly expensive, which felt like a bonus.

But when I put it on and looked in the mirror, my heart sank.

What I saw reflected back at me wasn’t the person I recognised.

Now, I spend a lot of time encouraging others to love themselves. I genuinely believe that our worth is not determined by our size or shape. But this experience gave me a whole new level of understanding.

For the first time, I truly felt that sinking feeling that so many people describe when they look in the mirror and don’t recognise themselves.

I felt disappointment.

I found myself asking, “How did I get here?”

As I reflected on it, I realised there was more going on than simply gaining weight. The biggest factor was that I had lost my outlet for stress.

For months, I hadn’t been running because of my injury. While I continued walking the dog every day—and I genuinely love those walks—it wasn’t the same. Running had always been where I processed life. It was where I released emotions, let go of worries, and entered a kind of meditative state.

When I run, I feel completely present. I feel connected. For me, it becomes a spiritual experience as much as a physical one. It’s where I receive insight, clarity, and guidance. It’s where I clear emotional energy and create space within myself.

Without realising it, I had stopped doing all of that.

The stress of everyday life was still there.

I am a single parent. I have three children. I have a dog. I run a business. Like so many people, my days are full. There are places to be, responsibilities to juggle, clients to support, and endless tasks to complete.

Life becomes a hamster wheel.

We rush from one thing to the next without recognising that we’re operating in a constant state of stress.

And when stress becomes chronic, the body responds.

For me, this became a huge wake-up call. I began asking myself deeper questions.

What was I carrying that I hadn’t released?

What part of me felt unsafe?

What part of me felt it needed protection?

Because sometimes weight gain isn’t simply about food or exercise. Sometimes it’s connected to what we’re holding emotionally, mentally, and energetically. The layer of protection that keeps you safe.

As I explored this further, I realised that I had been carrying stress for months without giving myself a healthy outlet to process it.

That realisation changed everything.

I’ve been through menopause. I’ve experienced the symptoms and navigated those changes. The weight gain had happened before, and I’d successfully lost it. But this experience wasn’t simply about weight.

It was about self-perception.

It was about identity.

It was about recognising how quickly we can become disconnected from ourselves when life gets busy.

Most importantly, it reminded me how many people experience this every day.

How many people stand in front of a mirror and feel disheartened.

How many people judge themselves harshly because their body has changed.

How many people forget that their value has absolutely nothing to do with their dress size.

This experience also brought up old beliefs I hadn’t realised were still there. Beliefs around appearance. Beliefs around criticism. Memories of being judged, particularly by men, for my shape and size—even when I was extremely slim.

Those old wounds were still sitting quietly beneath the surface. The mirror simply revealed them. And perhaps that was the greatest gift in all of this.

Because healing isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes healing shows us exactly what still needs our attention.

Today, I am grateful for the lesson.

Not because I enjoyed looking in the mirror and feeling uncomfortable, but because it gave me an opportunity to meet myself with greater compassion.

It reminded me that self-love is easy when everything looks the way we want it to. The real work begins when it doesn’t.

Whatever shape or size we are, we are still worthy.

We are still enough.

We are still, in my belief, perfect expressions of the divine.

And sometimes the journey isn’t about changing our bodies. Sometimes it’s about understanding what our bodies have been trying to tell us all along.

If this story resonated with you, and you’d like to explore more of the work I do around healing, self-discovery, energy work, and personal transformation, I’d love to stay connected. You can sign up for my newsletter, where I share insights into the energies of the week, inspiration through a Message from Spirit, and updates on courses and events that help to support you on your own journey.

Thank you for taking the time to read and be part of this community. Remember, wherever you are on your path, you are enough, exactly as you are.

Much Love,

Lorraine xx