When You Don’t Want to Look in the Mirror Anymore

Written By Arushi Sharma

Three years into postpartum, I’m finally facing the truth about my body, my health, and how far I've let myself go.

It’s only recently, three years into postpartum, that I’ve allowed myself to be on camera without feeling terrified to look at the result.

Even now, it’s uncomfortable. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I don’t often recognize the person staring back. The scarred, textured skin. The graying hair. The weight. The tired eyes. The overall heaviness. How did I get here?

I told myself it was just a phase. That I was doing the hardest thing of raising a child while working full-time, and health could come later. I didn’t have the time or the capacity. It felt justified.

And I judged anyone who dared to comment. My weight, my skin, my mood. I told myself the world is broken, that society demands too much from mothers. It celebrates the bounce-back body while ignoring the cost of motherhood entirely.

And I still believe some of that.
But it’s not the whole story.

Because in truth, I wasn’t pushing back against unrealistic expectations.
I was escaping. I had stopped showing up for myself completely.

I numbed with food, scrolled endlessly, stopped moving, stopped caring. I filled my days with motherhood and work and rewatching shows I didn’t even enjoy. And I convinced myself I was doing great because I was still standing. Still functioning.

But functioning isn’t the same as thriving.

And this pattern isn’t new. I’ve done this my whole life. Lose weight for the event, then spiral. Try a shortcut, then crash. I never built habits that lasted. I never addressed what was going on inside.

Postpartum just exposed all of it. On steroids.

Here’s what rock bottom looked like:

  • My highest weight ever.

  • Couldn’t fit into 90% of my wardrobe.

  • Hormonal acne for the first time in my life. Deep, painful breakouts and the scars that followed.

  • Hair falling out in clumps.

  • Resting heart rate far too high… a sign of chronic stress.

  • No stamina. I’d get out of breath playing with my toddler.

  • Terrible posture, constant neck and back pain.

  • Broken, shallow sleep.

  • A full-blown phone addiction. I was chasing dopamine hits when I should’ve been resting.

I started avoiding people, plans, pictures. I missed being social, but dreaded the thought of anyone seeing me like that.

And then something gave.

It wasn’t dramatic. Just one of those quiet moments, alone, when you finally let yourself be honest.

I didn’t want to live like this anymore.
Not because I hated myself.
But because I missed myself.

I missed feeling comfortable in my body. I missed recognizing myself in photos. I missed the version of me that had energy, appetite, and confidence. I wanted to feel good again. I wanted to feel strong. Not for the world. For me.

So I made a list. No big declarations. Just… one step. I started with skincare. But fixing my skin led to learning about my gut. And my hormones. And how they were affecting my mood, metabolism, and stress response.

It all clicked.

Nothing about this could be fixed on the surface.

And nothing could be rushed.
This wasn’t about a glow-up.
It was about healing.

So I’m doing things differently this time. No quick fixes. No bursts of motivation that fizzle out. I want real change — the kind that comes from going inward and staying with it.

What I’m doing now:

  • I’m learning how my body actually works. How hormones, gut health, sleep, and stress all affect each other.

  • I’m tracking macros (trying to get upto 120gm of protein daily) and focusing on whole, nutrient-rich meals that leave me nourished and satiated. Not restricting, not mindless eating.

  • I’ve swapped calorie counting and guilt for curiosity and structure. What does my body need today?

  • Self-care is a non-negotiable part of my routine now. Weekly manicures, monthly facials, skincare rituals. Not vanity, but investments in myself that serve as reminders that I matter.

  • I walk almost every morning. No HIIT. More joyful movement. Some days, I do strength training or yoga. Other days, I just stretch or do solo dance parties.

  • I’m trying out breathwork and somatic practices. Not regularly yet. But more than I ever have. Slowly, I will make more time for it as my son grows up.

  • I’m weaning off caffeine slowly. No more 3 p.m. lattes that wreck my sleep. I track my sleep quality, work on better evening routines, and try to log off earlier.

  • And I’m writing. It’s the only way I stay honest. It clears my mind and reminds me that I’m not alone.

I don’t know yet what my most beautiful version looks like. But I want to get there. I want to feel proud of my body again. I want to trust it. I want to feel amazing in it.

And a year from now, I hope I can say:
I didn’t abandon myself this time.
I did the work.
I rebuilt the relationship.
And I finally came home to myself.

Arushi Sharma