Finish this sentence: “When I look in the mirror, I . . .“
Photographers, artists, poets: show us MIRRORED.
When I look in the mirror, I see everything I don’t want to. I see a girl with her short unkempt hair, deceptively smiling eyes, an upward curve plastered on my mouth. I see all the lies that others see past, the tiredness behind the brown eyes, the pain behind the forced smile. I see everything that I know already but would rather not see.
There had come a point in my life when I had begun avoiding the mirror. Mirrors reflected me as I knew myself to be as opposed to what others knew me to be. And I didn’t want the knowledge I had about myself. I wanted to convince myself of the lies I was feeding others about my state of mind but though I was very successful with others, it just wasn’t the same with me. Every morning, I’d stand before the mirror and comb my hair and rush through it, hoping the ordeal would be over soon enough. Eventually, I stopped. Not combing my hair – I didn’t really have a choice about that, my hair reached till my shoulder – but looking in the mirror. I just began doing my hair in the best possible way without having to look into a mirror at all. I can’t say the result was perfect but at least I didn’t have to face my biggest fear anymore. It gave me a feeling of safety, not having to uncover my darkest secrets day after day. When my eyes began to let me down, I began putting eyeliner and there came a point when I could even put eyeliner without a mirror. I can’t do that anymore, unfortunately, because I have let go of my phobia of mirrors since. But the situation had actually gone that far…
Now I can look again. Now when I look, I can see my wall of lies slowly crumble as I begin to accept my life and move on instead of remaining frozen in the past. Now I see me as I used to be before my discovery about my past. Now I see someone who is learning how to be happy again. Now I see me, as me, without pretenses.