Mirror Selfie Quotes

People have to share everything they do these days, from meals, to nights out, to selfies of themselves half naked in a mirror The borders between public and private are dissolving

According to Aristotle, friends hold a mirror up to each other. This mirror allows them to see things they wouldn’t be able to observe if they were holding up the mirror to themselves. (We think of it as the difference between a shaky selfie and a really clear portrait taken by somebody else.) Observing ourselves in the mirror of others is how we improve as people. We can see our flaws illuminated in new ways, but we can also notice many good things we didn’t know were there. Until a friend specifically requests you bring your lemon meringue pie to brunch, you might not realize you’ve become an excellent baker. Until a friend finds the courage to tell you that she never feels like you’re listening to her, you might not realize this is how others are perceiving your chatterbox tendencies. After the third friend in a row calls you for help asking for a raise, you might finally give yourself credit as a pretty good negotiator. Once you’ve seen yourself in a mirror of friendship—in both positive and challenging ways—the reflection cannot be unseen.

paint your nails black, rub glitter on your face, take so many selfies, compliment all your sisters (no, not just your cis-ters), & hex any man who catcalls you. - a note from me scrawled on your mirror.

Develop a healthy relationship with food. If you’re hungry, eat. If you’re full, don’t eat. Eat vegetables to be good to your body, but eat ice cream to be good to your soul. Take pictures of yourself frequently. Chronicle your life. Selfies are completely underrated. Even if the pictures are unflattering, keep them anyway. There will always be mountains and cities and buildings, but you will never look the same way as you did in that one moment in time. Your worth does not depend on how desirable someone finds you. Spend less time in front of the mirror and more time with people who make you feel beautiful. Close doors. Don’t hold onto things that no longer brings you happiness and do not help you grow as a person. It is okay to walk away from toxic relationships. You are not weak for letting go. Forgive yourself. We all have something in our pasts that we are ashamed of, but they only weigh us down if we allow them to. Make amends with the old you and work every day to become the person that you’ve always wanted to be.

A selfie is nothing more than just an external reflection of yourself

Did you know that Anastasia, the Romanov grand duchess, took selfies?.... Of course she used a mirror, but still… Those photos she took had no third party. No outside eye. They come directly to us from her, across the ages. A long-gone girl capturing her own image and immortalizing it.

Apps which allow us to see our own data allow us to see ourselves. We look at our data doubles as we gazed into the mirror as teenagers wondering who we were and who we might be. We look at our data in much the same ways as you might flick through your selfies to find the one that shows you the way you want to be seen.

people have to share everything they do these days, from meals, to nights out, to selfies of themselves half naked in a mirror

With the card, there’s a photo of us from the day Yael taught me to box. The selfie in the mirror. I gulp at the image of our bodies together. My heart feels like its pumping tar through my veins. I wish I had the power to free my hands and shape my own life. But I don’t.

Thinking about the journey I have been on and why I might be here in this lifetime. I’m here to not repeat patterns. To not live on other people’s terms, but on my own terms. To stop trying to please everyone at the expense of myself. So here I am, to find me, and then I freak out. What? Did I upset you? It’s fucking scary. Fucking scary to take a baby step in that direction. To reveal myself? To not look in the mirror or take an iPhone selfie that will expose the inside? But this is what it takes to be my best. In this lifetime, to bare my naked soul and my scarred skin. You can love me or hate me. Or be somewhere in between. But I am who I am. We all have many scars from just living. From living life, feeling love, hurt, loss, pain. Maybe instead of hiding those scars this time I can turn them into beautiful tattoos of experience on that naked skin.

Why does a little girl lose her emotional equilibrium in a moment of parental discipline, or a megastar musician forget who she is because of one criticism? Or why, when a text message or the subject line of an e-mail says, “We need to talk” (or for us pastors, “About your sermon”) are we struck with a sudden feeling of doom? Why do we spend hours in the gym or in front of the mirror or online meticulously editing our social media profiles? Why is the perfect “selfie” such a large part of how we present ourselves to the world? Why do we live in constant disequilibrium about what our real or imagined critics might say about us?

But to demand that a work be “relatable” expresses a different expectation: that the work itself be somehow accommodating to, or reflective of, the experience of the reader or viewer. The reader or viewer remains passive in the face of the book or movie or play: she expects the work to be done for her. If the concept of identification suggested that an individual experiences a work as a mirror in which he might recognize himself, the notion of relatability implies that the work in question serves like a selfie: a flattering confirmation of an individual’s solipsism.

Vampires must be the least narcissistic creatures. They can’t see themselves in the mirror, and they can’t take any selfies. Vampires don’t belong to Selfie culture. Boo hoo.

I Am a Tinder Guy Holding a Fish and I Will Provide for You Photo No. 1 Behold my mackerel. I have caught it for you and it is for you to eat. Love me, for I shall fill your dinner table with many fish such as this one in the days to come. During our time together, you will never go hungry or fear famine. You will never want for trout, salmon, or otherwise. I will sustain you with my love and with my fish. Photo No. 2 As you may have suspected, my talents do not end at fishing. I excel in many areas. Working out, for instance. In this picture I display for you my abdomen. Abdomens are important for fishing excursions and mirror selfies, such as this one. I flex for you. What do you think? Photo No. 3 To get a better idea of me, here is a closeup selfie of my face with a high-contrast filter. In it, I make an expression like that young boy star Justin Bieber, but, rest assured, I am a man. I crease my forehead and raise my eyebrows, like a man. In my gaze, you can see the soul of a man. My mouth is as straight as the line I will walk for you. Peer into the depths of my heart, a small ocean of the meatiest haddock. Photo No. 4 Feast your eyes upon my Mitsubishi. In it, we will traverse the continent running your errands. Tell me about an appointment and I will offer you a ride faster than anyone has ever offered before. This and many other adventures await us. Name an ocean and I will drive to it and fish for you there. The farthest reaches of the shoreline are within our grasp. Photo No. 5 Worry not about the woman with the face scribbled out in this picture of me in formal wear. She is no one. Cast your eyes upon me as I might cast a fishing line into a bountiful river. Look unto my face, for it is chiseled. This is the face of a man who would never scribble out your face and upload the picture onto a dating app. This is the face of a man with an abdomen rock-hard and fishing rods numerous. Photo No. 6 Now I am spreading my arms wide in front of a landscape. Behold my mountain, my sky, my clouds, my wingspan. These are the arms with which I will hold you during long, dark nights. I will claim you as I have claimed this landscape, as I have claimed myriad salmon. I will fight for you as I have fought for the right to so many weight machines already in use by someone else at the Y.M.C.A. My arms ache for you, and I have nothing left but to stretch them out and fly home to your heart. For mine are the wings of an albatross that shall descend upon the water’s surface, pluck out the ripest flounder, and place it at your feet as a small offering of my love, if you swipe right.

I’ve fallen into the thought process of “I’ll be happy when I’m a size _____.” This is shallow and untrue. We cannot find our self-worth or happiness in our size. There is no such thing as a “size happy.” Large or small, Jesus loves us all. Friend, please stop looking for your validation in the mirror or on a scale. Your identity cannot be found there no matter how long you stare. Your worth cannot be found on the tag inside your jeans or leggings. Your beauty cannot be measured. Your appearance does not define you. Your identity is found in something that no one but God can truly see. Check out what God said when the prophet Samuel saw David’s impressive elder brother and thought Eliab must be the man God had chosen to be king: The LORD said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) God looks at the heart. Your weight will fluctuate, your body will change, but his love for you remains the same. Your body is a vessel. It’s a tool. It does not determine your value. Only Christ can do that. Your body is not an object for others to look at for pleasure. Your identity is safely hidden in God’s care. The apostle Paul said it this way: “You died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3 NLT). No amount of Photoshop can change who we are in Christ. It’s time to remove the filters we hide behind and allow God to reveal our identity in him.

Maybe we're all obsessed with taking selfies not because we're all narcissists, but because after a while, living one's life solely from behind the eyeballs can become a bit terrifying. It's the same reason we stare at ourselves in the mirror: to make sure we're still there, the character of our life movie.

Every photo must have you in it, and it must also be clear and big enough to see you. If your entire profile just consists of selfies, give this book to a friend and tell them to throw it at your head. Selfies are not ideal. If you have a mirror selfie, that**’**s far worse and I would not like to be responsible for the damage inflicted upon you, but someone has to teach you a lesson. Don**’**t ever do mirror selfies.

passing by a girl taking mirror selfies of her latest surgical enhancements that she’ll accredit to squats, a group of guys trying to out-lift each other.

We live in the era of the curated life. At sixteen, this might mean taking a momentary break from feeling fat, ugly, and unlovable to post a barrage of confidence-throbbing, boob-thrusting bathroom mirror selfies. At thirty-five, when Facebook starts to flag your boobs as “offensive content,” it might mean social sharing your pedicured toes on the sun lounger from your once-in-five years vacation or taking advantage of the brief moment that your newborn draws breath from his seven-week screaming-

Truth is, we all project a false front to the world, peppering our social media pages with witty words and silly emoticons. Life narrowed down to 140 characters, staged selfies, and tirades over opinion posts. Life lived for the approval of the masses, all while tearing strangers down for the slightest misstep. And when you turn away from that electric glow, when you no longer see those silent, pixelated opinions, who are you, really? Who do you see in the mirror? When did the regard of those unknown masses become your existence? Those who will never be there for you except to judge.

the slow chewing, the clicking of the jaw, the numbness and discomfort. “You get used to it,” I say to her, again. After my own surgeries I had to work hard to stop myself from stretching my neck like a crane and constantly poking my chin because I couldn’t feel it. Sensation never came back, but that’s what hand mirrors and selfie modes were for—to check if food or drink were dribbling down my

Selfies in front of mirrors are actually s*objects taking pictures of the beholder.

But this imputation—this self—is a product of a scene that comes off, and is not a cause of it," Goffman writes. The self is not a fixed, organic thing, but a dramatic effect that emerges from a performance. This effect can be believed or disbelieved at will.