You Were Perfectly Fine Until the Mirrors Started Giving Opinions

You can arrive at a date feeling perfectly comfortable with yourself and leave wondering whether your personality has somehow become the wrong size.

Perhaps you are too expressive, too independent, too affectionate, or not affectionate enough. A little too much of something, although nobody seems entirely sure what the correct amount would be.

Good heavens. You were perfectly normal when you left the house.

Welcome to the Dating Funhouse, where every mirror is a different finicky gentleman and every reflection shows you exactly how he would prefer you to be. Naturally, you are about to become very busy.

The First Mirror Has a Few Suggestions

The first mirror is rather attractive, and the reflection looks lovely until you notice that it makes you appear a little too large.

Your enthusiasm seems excessive, your laughter takes up rather a lot of room, and your opinions, while perfectly respectable, might be more attractive if they did not arrive quite so confidently.

Well, nobody wants to look enormous.

So you make a few adjustments. A little less enthusiasm, a little less of the opinion that was about to come out, and perhaps the laughter could be reduced to something more tasteful.

You check the reflection, and what do you know? Much better. The mirror seems pleased, your confidence returns, and you are rather pleased with yourself for having discovered how easy it is to improve one's proportions.

Ah, there you are. You were beginning to wonder what was wrong with you, but apparently it was nothing a few little adjustments could not fix.

The funhouse has been a success.

Naturally, you proceed to the next mirror.

Apparently, We Have Become Too Small

The second mirror is a completely different gentleman. He likes a woman who knows what she wants, speaks her mind, and is not afraid to show affection, so the reflection he presents is rather disappointing.

Apparently, you are too reserved.

Too reserved? Good heavens, the previous mirror seemed to think you were practically shouting.

But perhaps you have overdone the adjustments. Back comes the enthusiasm, the opinions are allowed out again, and the laughter returns with the enthusiasm of a guest who had only just been asked to leave.

The reflection improves beautifully, and with it comes that lovely feeling of being comfortable with yourself again. The second mirror is delighted, you are delighted, and apparently this is the correct size after all.

By now, you have successfully corrected yourself twice, although the second correction involved undoing most of the first.

A small detail.

The important thing is that you feel wonderful again.

On to the next mirror.

The Third Mirror Has Something Else in Mind

By the third mirror, you have become remarkably skilled at making adjustments. A little more of this, a little less of that, and the reflection looks lovely—although the first two mirrors would probably be horrified by the result.

This one is not particularly concerned about your size. It has opinions about your proportions.

You are wonderfully independent, but perhaps a little too independent for a relationship. Affectionate, certainly, but the affection occasionally arrives at an inconvenient moment. And your sense of humor is delightful, provided you can recognize when the mirror is being serious, which appears to be rather more often than expected.

The requirements are becoming quite specific.

Still, a few adjustments produce another successful reflection. The mirror approves, your confidence returns, and you are beginning to feel rather proud of your versatility.

The Woman in the Ordinary Mirror

The first mirror wanted less, the second wanted more, and the third introduced an entirely new arrangement. Each time, you managed to get yourself looking just right, which was enormously reassuring until the next mirror came along with another opinion.

By now, the funhouse has become rather exhausting, and you are beginning to wonder whether there is any version of you that will satisfy the whole place. So, for a moment, you step away from the mirrors and catch sight of yourself in an ordinary one.

Well, what do you know? You look remarkably familiar.

The laughter is still there, along with the opinions, the affection, the independence, and all the other things that have been taking turns being too much or not enough.

Good heavens. You have been the same woman all along.

The ordinary mirror seems entirely unconcerned with your proportions. It has no suggestions, no preferred version, and no particular interest in whether you might look better if you adjusted something.

How refreshing.

The mirrors can continue disagreeing about your proportions. You, however, are quite finished with alterations; any gentleman who prefers a different reflection is welcome to find one.