Mirrors

I read a study once about how women when presented with multiple shadow images of their body’s figure, always picked the one that was two sizes bigger than they actually were. This came as no surprise to me at the time, seeing as we (women) are our own worst critics and we are always unhappy with some feature about ourselves, but now, in light of what I have been through lately, I find this particular fact about us women quite fascinating.

Have you ever noticed that you can be told the same wonderful thing about yourself time and time again, by people you love and trust or by someone you admire, but then you hear the same exact thing from some unexpected someone, and that it the moment that the wonderful thing finally sinks-in?? Its like everyday you are looking at yourself in a carnival mirror, seeing only a morphed image of yourself while hearing the compliments, but then this one person manages to say it and the mirror clears-up, and you are finally able to see the you that everyone else sees.

Lately, well actually throughout my life but even more as of late, I have been told how incredibly strong I am, but I never really saw it. My mirror seemed to only reflect the shattered or broken parts of me, like the tear stained checks, the dark, sunken and tired eyes, the lackluster hew of florescent kissed skin and sparkle-less eyes; basically the remains of someone wrung through and through. I always knew that when I managed to make it to the other side of a trying time that it was an accomplishment, but I always chalked that up to survival, perseverance maybe, but never strength; yet my husband openly admits that it is my strength that got him through our losses and my mother praises me for keeping strong and having faith, our Doctor marveled at my recovery and our co-workers and friends are all amazed… But it wasn’t until yesterday, when my brother said it, that for some unanswerable reason, I was seen, and my mirror was cleared.