Inside my body lives a giant house. It’s got nooks and crannies, and even a secret hiding place. I don’t have a basement with demons in it, but I’ve got a secret passageway in the basement which leads to the attic, where all my demons nest in the rafters. I’ve seen this place in my dreams. I feel it in my bones when they creak.
There’s a little room (one I haven’t dreamed) that I keep locked. On the walls of the room there are mirrors, big and small. They flash, flicker, and gleam. Some of them are old, rusted, and pitted. Across all the reflective surfaces are words.
Unnoticed and Unnoticeable.
It goes on and on, reflecting an endless litany of every message, every word They named aloud or silently to describe who I was. The mirrors bounce the messages back and forth between every surface in the room until I’m dizzy.
Recently, I’ve started writing my own messages on the mirrors in red dry-erase ink. Dry-erase, because I can be modified. Dry-erase, because sometimes I need to hear something new. Dry-erase, because I’m a work in progress.
Noticed and Noticeable.
Paired with these words are moving faces, expressive and full. Faces pronouncing compassion and comfort through eyes, smiles, and soft, reaching lines. In the mirrors I see every single person who has ever affirmed my value and worth. They, unlike the dead words that hang like dementors over my head, are vibrant. Their voices still echo in the room.
I am here now, with a cacophony of sound. The beautiful and the empty all dance together, twisting in my head. But they are both present. Like a sponge, I am slowly soaking in messages and being choosy about which ones I will believe. It’s dizzying, difficult work.
Yet I’m so grateful, for I’m slowly seeing a new face come alive in that mirror. One with sparkling hazel eyes that don’t need alcohol, men, or any stimulation to dance with the life behind them. I’m becoming a moon reflecting the sunlight of the Spirit. I’m internalizing my truth.
Here soon, it’s going to burst out into the wide, wide world. Oh my darling, I can’t wait to see what you become.