My Reflection

As I stared into the mirror and my reflection stared right back at me. Nothing much had changed and this boy (well for all practical purpose I shall be a boy no matter what the numbers says on the birth certificate, or the candles on my cake, or the greys and wrinkles of the reflection that’s staring back at you), looks just the same.

But then the mirrors doesn’t lie and so your reflection that’s staring back at you reflects the real you.

So you see all your curves and edges. The chubby cheeks and no dimpled chin, something that you didn’t even have before. You see all the weight you gained. You see the flab on your belly and make you yearn for the flat tummy you once managed to achieve. 

You stare at the reflection of the muscles you once had but now is gone making you wonder if you will ever be able to grow then again. So now it’s just a phantom flex of something that’s no longer there, or at least is invisible for the moment.

But then the reflection that stares back at you is just your physical manifestation. But if you stare a little deeper (and here I realise I’ve used a lot of buts) your reflection reflects the unseen. Sometimes it’s the pain and sorrows, sometimes it’s the anxiety that threatens to consume you, at times your fears that limit you. But at most time you see the hope in those eyes, hope things will be better. 

But (and there I go again with the nuts) your reflection shows you the faith you have in yourself to get back to the way you were, the way you want it to be. It’s this reflection of the faith in you that keeps you going, knowing that you have the power with you to change who you are, the way you feel about yourself, the way you let the words of others affect you.

So you keep staring at the mirror and your reflection stares back at you showing you what is and what could be, and definitely not the fairest (or the handsomest l, in yours sincerely’s case), of them all!