Do you ever just stare at yourself in the mirror? Ever look so deep into your own eyes that you can feel yourself looking into your own soul?
Here I am, sitting on the bathroom counter like a 12 year old, staring into my once youthful face. Under the perfectly done makeup facade is an old woman, aged by bearing and raising 5 kids. The lines show even when I pull my hair back into a tight chignon.
When did this happen to me? I remember a similar day so many lifetimes ago. I sat on a bathroom counter, fingers and toes pained perfectly and I sat studying the young face in the mirror. In this moment I was a child about to become a woman. In just a few short hours I would marry my Matthew.
'Mom, mom! Matthew asked me to marry him!" I remember tearing into the house elated, excited and scared all at once. My ever stoic mother reminded me to stop yelling in the house, then she gave me a proper gentle hug and said congratulations. I know she was raised to never show her feelings, but really? In this moment couldn't she at least pretend to be happy? Mom always kept her emotions in check. I love my mom, but that doesn't make us close. I don't understand her, I know that I am a disappointment to her, a failure. I love you mom, I wish you knew me. I wish you could like the me underneath all this garbage I project to the world.
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