Reflection

“Model looking in the mirror of fashion designer Molineux, Paris” ©1934 Alfred Eisenstaedt.

Each day I am greeted by the mirror across from my bed. I am forced to look at myself overtime I arise. With sleep still in my eyes, I ask “what will this day bring me?”

A Day is quantified as a passage of time. 24 hours, a 9 to 5, with maybe some television and wine sprinkled in, or a holiday.

The days ahead of me are more valuable than any currency I can think of.

I almost never had days to look forward to.

It is a privilege to wake up everyday.

My body was on the edge of death.

Now…I am on the edge of life. I am holding on by my nails, scratching, and trying to keep myself up, and do more with my life than merely survive it.

I wake up and see my reflection in that mirror. I wake up looking into eyes, strongly sad.

My reflection is better through others’ eyes, when I make jokes, laugh and forget the past.

When it’s just me and that mirror though, I truly see myself, no filters. The image reflected turns inward. It infiltrates my bodily vessel, projecting, illuminating and, burrowing into my soul and being.

I see pain, an unwelcome squatter.

I see false love, a frequent and unexpected visitor.

Hurt.

I relive the past mistakes I cannot change, yet haunt me still.

I look at myself and can only see a dejected and dismal soul. At these times I am enslaved by my inner thoughts and the voices that tell me I am not good enough and never will be.

But, when the sun shines through my window and my reflection ceases to cast clouds on my disposition, I am wistful. I am able to renew my belief in growth and hope.

I have hated that person I see in the mirror.

I’m learning to understand her, comfort, and love her. If I have to wake up with her everyday, I should accept her with her flaws and her gifts. There is a beauty within her which is eclipsed. It shines. It might be dim now, but it is there and one day it will be reflected back in the image of a brilliant smile and brighter eyes.