When I stop and really look at myself in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. Gone is the young woman who laughed so loud and hard that the people around her had to laugh, too. That carefree girl always humming, singing, or making a happy sound is gone. Her leaving was a combination of little hurts and disappointments until the catastrophic passing of my mother. My mother’s passing almost broke me, and for years, there was little joy in my life. Now, a permanent sadness resides in the depths of my eyes. Lips that were once quick to smile now rest downward, only turning upward with effort. Lines are etched on my face where worry, anger, pain, and fear have left their mark. The hair, which I was always trying to tame, is almost a memory. The simplicity of my childhood is a cherished recollection that I’m so thankful to have had, but it has been replaced with the harsh reality of life.
I’m sure I’m not the only one physically changed by difficult situations or circumstances. Looking in mirrors may not be as pleasant as it once was, but I encourage you to stop and take a long, hard look at yourself. You may be shocked, saddened, or surprised at who you see staring back at you.
I see my mother looking back at me, and because I can see my mother, I’m sure parts of her mother and her mother’s mother are peering back at me. I see a girl who grew up into a young woman who loved a man who broke her heart and later helped her put the pieces back together. I see a Black single mother who refused to fit into the stereotypical role that society thought she had consigned herself and her child to. I see a woman who purchased her first house before she was thirty. I see a woman who didn’t see herself as beautiful for far too long. I see a woman who would have given up if it wasn’t God. I see a woman whose broken pieces were put back together, and every line on her face proves she weathered the storm.
I would love to know who you see looking back at you in the mirror!
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