When I look in the mirror I see the girl I was when I was

Hear the words of Heather Locklear, spoken with honesty and remembrance: “When I look in the mirror I see the girl I was when I was growing up, with braces, crooked teeth, a baby face and a skinny body.” This confession is not merely about appearance; it is a revelation of memory, a truth about identity, and the eternal struggle between who we once were and who we have become. For when one gazes upon their reflection, the eyes do not only see the flesh of the present moment—they also call forth the shadow of the past, the child who still lingers within.

The ancients often spoke of the mirror as a portal to the soul. In Greek lore, Narcissus was destroyed because he mistook reflection for reality, while in the wisdom of the East, sages taught that to look upon oneself was to confront both vanity and humility. So too does Locklear remind us that beneath fame, beauty, and the adornments of adulthood, there remains the child who once struggled, felt awkward, and carried imperfections as visible as braces and as invisible as secret fears. Her words uncover a universal truth: we never wholly shed the skin of our youth—we carry it, sometimes hidden, sometimes revealed, in the depths of our hearts.

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln, a man remembered as one of the greatest leaders of his age. In his youth, he was mocked for his gangly frame, his rough manners, and his “homely” face. Yet when he looked in his own mirror, he did not forget the boy who labored in poverty and endured ridicule. He carried that memory into his years of leadership, turning it into empathy, humility, and strength. Like Locklear’s reflection, Lincoln’s past self lived within him, shaping the way he bore the burdens of the present.

The imagery of braces and crooked teeth is more than physical—it is the symbol of every imperfection, every stage of awkward becoming. To have a baby face and a skinny body is to be caught in the liminal state of youth, when one longs to appear grown but cannot yet escape the marks of immaturity. When Locklear confesses that she still sees that girl in the mirror, she gives voice to the truth that no achievement, no applause, no outward transformation can fully erase the memory of our vulnerable beginnings.

And yet, this remembrance is not sorrowful—it is a hidden form of strength. For the one who recalls the child they once were walks with greater compassion. They know that beauty is not perfection but authenticity, and that wisdom is not forgetting youth but integrating it. To see the younger self in the mirror is to acknowledge the road traveled, the growth endured, and the courage it took to pass through the storms of self-doubt. It is a testimony that every stage of awkwardness was necessary to shape the person we are today.

What lesson, then, shall we draw from these words? First, let no one despise their beginnings. The crooked teeth, the fragile frame, the uncertain face—these are not shameful, but sacred signs of the journey. Second, let us not be deceived by the glamour of outward appearance; even the most admired among us still carry the memory of vulnerability. This recognition humbles us, reminding us that beneath every crown lies the story of a child who once struggled to belong.

Practical wisdom follows: when you look into your own mirror, do not scorn the reflection. See both who you are and who you were. Speak kindly to the child within you, for that child endured so that you could stand as you are today. If you are tempted to judge yourself harshly, remember that growth is never graceful—it is born of trial, error, and endurance. And when you meet others, remember that they too carry the memory of their awkward youth; treat them with patience and compassion.

Thus, from Locklear’s intimate remembrance, a timeless truth is revealed. The mirror shows us not only the present but the eternal union of past and present selves. To embrace that union is to walk in wisdom. For the girl with braces and the woman of today are one, and so it is with us all. Honor your reflection, cherish your past, and walk forward knowing that even your imperfections are part of your beauty and your becoming.