Some days, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think, Yes, that’s me. Those are the days after I’ve gone for a run, eaten foods that nourish me, skipped the wine the night before, and feel the bright rush of being in an energetic phase of my cycle. But when I fall out of that rhythm, the reflection shifts. The mirror doesn’t flat out lie, but it doesn’t always tell the truth either.
This is where Jacques Lacan’s idea of méconnaissance comes in. He argued that when we see our reflection, we don’t recognize ourselves as we really are. Instead, we project a fantasy, a pleasing, whole, curated version of ourselves we mistake for reality. It’s vanity and survival. But it’s also a trap.
Makeup, for me, lives in both of these spaces. When I care for myself internally, cosmetics help bring something forward—something authentic, expressive, and whole. I use it to decorate, not disguise. But I’ve also worn makeup to mask myself, to hide in plain sight when the inner world is frayed. The same product. Two entirely different motivations. That duality is everything.
The same goes for social media. We often talk about the toxicity of selfies and filters, but even people who never post their face aren’t exempt from this curated identity. We frame our lives through aesthetics, our homes, food, vacations, partners, routines. Even our mess is styled. Our feeds aren’t real mirrors, but reflections nonetheless, distorted by intention, filtered by aspiration. A lifestyle post can whisper the same illusions as a heavily edited selfie: Here is the person I wish I were. Here is the life I hope you’ll believe I have.
And yet… some days, a touch of lipstick or a favorite outfit feels like an invitation to come home to myself. Sometimes it’s recovery. And other days, I let the feelings move through me without trying to course-correct. I don’t always need to “fix” the reflection. I just need to witness it.
The clients I work with often say the same. They see makeup as an enhancement, a mirror that helps them express, not fabricate. But we all agree: it can’t be the foundation for truth. It can only elevate a truth that’s already alive.
There is a true self. Not a static one, but a fluid truth that emerges through a process of constant shedding and careful choosing. You’ll feel it in your gut. You’ll know when something is “you” and when it’s not. And when you betray that knowing—even with the best intentions—it costs you something.
The real challenge is not avoiding mirrors, or even makeup. It’s using both in service of something real. To witness the self, not manufacture it. To recognize yourself, even as you change. Because misrecognition isn’t always a mistake. It can also be a step toward becoming.