mirrors.

There's been a lot of different versions of myself in the last three decades. There's been my best ones, my future ones, the not-so-good ones and the fuck, I hate myself ones. I've had to own them all. Eventally.
I've seen some new versions of myself through people in my life. I can’t say they’ve been the most flattering. I’ve tried looking at myself at a different angle or with different lighting or while sucking in, but I can’t unsee it and I guess I’m going to have to own her, too.
I seem to have forgotten that the people who have been around the longest saw the best version and know she’s still in there. Somewhere. And, that’s why they stick around. Waiting?
I’ve recently seen that maybe that patience is wearing thin and for good reason. How many times can we have the same conversations? How many times can they continue to be supportive as they see me repeat the same mistakes over and over and over? How much longer do they have to wait for their girl to come back? I don’t have the answers. Yet. But, I see it.
I also failed to realize that people who are getting to know me now don’t know that version. She hasn’t been around. I assume they still see the same things, but I’ve actually neglected to show them. I wonder if they think I’m full of shit when I talk about the things that I say matter to me, but they’ve never really seen the proof. I see that now, too.
I can look at myself in the same mirror I’ve taken around with me for the last 15 years and be ok enough with it to confidently step out thinking I know what I saw, but then I catch glimpses of myself in other ones and lie to myself that that one just isn’t right.
I was so sure that I’m a very self-aware person, but I saw myself for the first time in a long time a week ago and I can’t look away. And, I shouldn’t.
I’ve blamed so many other people or things for the way things have turned out, it’s been so startling to see that it was me that made it all happen. It’s me that lets it happen. It’s me sending the mixed singnals or not telling the whole truth or trying to make sure everyone as comfortable as I try to squeeze into whatever space they’ve left room for me. I’ve gotten so comfortable with being uncomfortable I didn’t even feel it anymore. I do now.
I’ve noticed all of the transformations and versions of the people closest to me for a long time now. They’ve had their best and worst, too. I probably wasn’t the most flattering mirror for them.
I swell up with pride that I’ve been given the opportunity to see them all. Now I catch glimpses of wrinkles settling in or grey hairs shining through. In the right light and at the right angle I see all of the things that put them there and all of the hopes I have for what’s to come for them as the signs of years lived continue to reveal themselves.
The other day as I was standing in front of my mirror preparing myself to face the world, someone made me laugh and smile and I caught a glimpse of it. What actual joy looks like on me now. Not the smile you stretch across your face when you’re told to. And, for the first time I saw the wrinkles that shoot out of my eyes when I really mean it and I was so proud of them. So happy to meet them. So grateful for the things that have happened to put them there. All the versions hidden in the corners of my eyes.
I see it now. I get it. I want to be more of her.