"She"

I peer into my own eyes in the mirror tonight, and wonder why I need someone else’s approval now. I used to be strong, and sure. I used to love who I saw in that reflection. I was proud, but... a little too proud?

    

    Here we are, she and I. We stare through a new, flawed lens, and she doesn’t really compare. I obsess and seek compliments and validation to mitigate the pain. The same thinking coming into my head “if he would only recant everything he said that was mean”. But, it’s all a lie (really), and I will never win when I look through that lens. Life is not about competition and praise from my friends.

    I sigh, and look away, and part of me begs to have that old lens restored: To see myself the same, for the feeling of power and self-assured. No sense of insecurity. No longing. My mind, “Please, take away the pain and let me see and feel what I need to be true again.” 
But the truth is, I am not understanding the purpose of the pain and the meaning behind the desire. Because in reality the desire is about protection, not perfection. I tire, as I keep looking, sensing, thinking, feeling, sorting. Not quite yet understanding the disconnect as I strain to see that old “she”.

    That friend, oh “she”. Or… or was "she" a friend? Now that I think about her, I can’t quite recall. The memories flood back to me. I don’t think “she” loved me much... Did “she” at all? Who was that “she”? And what was her life? The more that I think, I turn up her strife. Imperfections, her crazes, her fears. Her angers and weakness, madness, strivings, late nights crying, loneliness, black-outs, no sense of direction and purpose… Pain.

    Whoa! Something feels strange. That's not what I thought. That was the way it was all supposed to be. She was supposed to be the best, that old me, “she”. That was all supposed to be right. The way to live, the way to love, not a barrier to the light. But time has changed everything, and for all the pain and abuse, I see the world with new light and through new eyes and with new use. This new lens, superimposed upon a human begging for truth. Desperate to receive, seeking for plain sight.

    The deepest part of me doesn’t want to let “she” go. Everything “she” represented was perfect. It was beautiful, and flawless. I JUST want him to see what he’s missing... Don’t you realize? How could you ask such a thing of me? The internal struggle raging for days... Weeks. Years. Needing validation that “she” will never receive.

    
One day she gives it to herself.

    Slowly. A day at a time, false representations of the past dissipate from her mind. The need for a false sense of security, and the lies, going too. "She's" mind, in deeper inquiry has found the faults to reveal. The truth is spoken; the peace, real. Her mind illuminated, the heart begins to heal.

    The most beautiful thing that “she” is realizing is that “she” was enough, all along.