I opened my eyes and looked at the reflection in my mirror. The person I saw was one stranger that I was still trying to understand. As I turned around and gazed across my room, an image arrested my mind: another stranger. The stranger looked so sweet with a luminescent glow in her eyes. She was playing dress up: a fuchsia blouse with a golden border and a white scarf adorning her head. She ran away laughing happily from her father; her anklets jingled softly and with each step she made a melodious song. The smile that flashed across her face had enough power to light up anyone’s heart. Happiness surrounded her world of innocence. Unaware of the people outside, she lived, self-absorbed, in the castle provided for her. Who would have thought that, the fortress would crumble and that she’d become the stranger in the mirror, who was shattered by many harsh realities. I then began to realize these strangers were all too familiar; they were me.
The girl in the mirror looked solemn, not glowing as the young girl had. This girl’s smile was rare. Fear replaced the happiness that had once surrounded her. She was afraid of rejection, of failing, of taking steps that led to nowhere. She feared adulthood and all its brutal responsibilities. After being broken hearted, twice let down boys she had hoped were young men. Seldom did she really want something. When she did, her whole heart was immersed in it. Her eyes held the fear of loss, like a venom, slowly killing her. Her environment and people around her demonstrated the castle that had once kept her safe.
Through all the differences, some similarities asserted themselves. We both have mastered the art of running away from our problems. If you look close at me today, you would be able to see the innocence that once defined me. It’s strange how in those few years, the definition of me has changed: gleeful anticipation has been replaced by worry cynicism; childhood replaced by adulthood.
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