Write of Passage: Mirrors

 I might take a couple days to really answer all this. The mirror I see, despite me loving the giant princess mirror is actually just a standard bathroom mirror and I guess the details aren't important, none are coming to me anyway. My eyes are what catch my attention. There is so much going on in my eyes and it's like each color, each speck, every detail is a trauma that happened somewhere along the way, like a rock with a bunch of dings and scratches from each part of it's journey from the top of the river where it fell in, to the bend that almost cracked in half under the strength of the current, to the scratches from shallow water and it rubbing up against sharp edges. I see each detail in my eye as some sort of inflicted.... hurt. It sounds dark bur I had a psychic tell me I've had some brutal endings in a lot of my past lives so that's that.

The second feature I see regarding my physical appearance is how smooth and flawless my skin has become in a matter of days. I know how I am and I know (from the same lady) I'm boujee. She said I was royalty a couple times and that really does not surprise me. I've always looked in the mirror and saw strength and beauty it just didn't feel like mine. It felt like a vehicle. I felt like a Ford Focus in BMW body, but I always hoped the BMW engine and interior would come into fruition. 

Physically I see a queen in the reflection but a trapped...I don't know if soul is the right word. I still am always annoyed with the 'beauty' because it hid who I really was which I always felt like was this untamable bronco who always ended up in a societal circus as the main act. This free bird that would hide in the woods if it meant not having to follow standards and expectations. I still feel that way, but I'm a lot calmer knowing some of the domestication is for the betterment of my livelihood.

I guess that's it for the physical leading into the behind the scenes: looking deeper into that, like I said I just see a very resentful soul. I've been resentful my whole life and the anger I have for having to do life again just enrages me if it's going to be this steep of a mountain AGAIN! I just see that bronco kicking and screaming as if it's been in an eternity of deja vu starting off free but then being taken hostage and then day in and day out being told where to go, what to do, be you, but calm down, don't take things personally, do what makes money, find love breed but make sure they'll become good workers, but they only get your leftover time and energy. Like WTH?! Does ANYBODY else see how twisted this is?! Anywho, eyes. window. bronco throwing a temper-tantrum. That's what I see. Someone or thing that wants nothing more than for the world to make sense, and has tried and tried and tried to take control of her world enough to make it make sense and then just to be... stoned to death because of it. The lady told me I was healing people, a lot of people and I was being murdered because of it. That makes sense why I feel so trapped and conflicted and wanting to help people while hating them simultaneously.

Before anyone judges me I did not walk into this appointment asking about my past lives. I can't say that I believe other people being able to see that stuff, although if I did I think she would be spot on. I'm so terrified of the world and have always thought I would be murdered and taken, yet oddly want to help the world on massive scales...I don't get it.... that's a part of the reflection too. 

So who am I? Ha! I guess you could say I am a lone wolf that has an odd desire to walk among the pack questioning their ways and help them understand that doing things differently is ok. I would say I'm some odd vessel that tries to be other peoples mirror that looks back at them long enough for them to start squirming with realizations. Who am I? I've always wanted to be the role model, seems like I'm starting to at least become sort of chainsaw to peoples cute little circle cycles they keep themselves trapped in. Hopefully that answers the question.

The masks. The persona I show people. Well I told myself with my dad that I would stop letting men see my tears and beings I was around men children most of the time, I put up this, 'I dare you to try to hurt me' front. So, my mask was the artistic design of numb. The face didn't move and the eyes were hard. Resting brat face was turned to eleven and everyone thought I judged them which was so far from the case. My family thought I was okay because I was numb. My friends despite being entertained by my life knew I was not okay but I don't think they knew how bad I really was; and, take the mask off I was dead on the inside. I remember looking in the mirror when I was 21 years old and I busted into a sob because I saw an underweight child with an alcohol problem living with her dad for the second time, shoving cheese its down my throat super late at night coming back from a bar. Pure neglect and I had no one to blame but myself... and nobody knew how bad it really was. 

The limits of wearing such a mask: I have lost A LOT of people in my life. I thought I was doing them a favor by protecting them from me, and in doing so no one has stuck around but my family, and that's because they don't know a lot of what happened. Evolving from that: I have had to dig into all those chests of experiences and emotions that I have buried and work through them what feels like one by one, it has been the hardest thing I think I have ever undergone. I've experienced fear that I felt like has almost killed me. Disgust with myself for treating people so inhumanely, and anger upon rage because I keep wanting to blame other people when I know and knew all along it was me. BUT  I have learned forgiveness and I don't care what anybody says I think the hardest person to forgive is yourself. It took me three years of trauma therapy and four years of self sabotage and it still took work! Here I am though, alive and well and still working on it day by day. How does it help me evolve in my identity? I found out it makes me unbelievably relatable, and one day I hope it gives people hope that they too can forgive themselves and move on to greatness. 

The most real and truest parts of me? I want to help a lot of people in a very unique way. I don't believe in the one size/tactic fits all, I really don't. I believe helping one person at a time accomplish their dreams and help them become the best version of themselves is the real and truest part of me. I know I can help. I've watched a thirty five year old change in a matter of months his entire attitude towards life. I've watched a 40 year old woman go from complete doormat working seven days a week to starting her own company on top of two jobs and being a single mom AND getting a promotion at her job. I've had another 40 year old put up stronger boundaries with his girlfriend and watched his business thrive right in front of my eyes in a matter of months because I talked to him about his priorities, (which he seemed to have forgotten because of the girlfriend) his confidence boomed because I was excited about his accomplishments in all areas of his life. I was angry when he was angry, sad when he was sad. Ya know that's what people need. They need someone to share their story with and empathize with them. I'm their mirror. I show them good, bad and I've shown ugly. 

My emotional face. I'm a presence. Chris says I light up the room when I enter it and I'm thinking now it's just the reflection of everyone else's light. That's pretty dope.

I don't think I need to revisit this prompt.