The Way I See

I have hung here far longer than the years I could count. I have seen people at there worst and at there best. Many claimed to hate me, but still said that they needed me. I suppose they truly did, because why would they leave me on the wall for so long if I only caused them pain?

As a mirror, I would reflect their image back to them. A girl in particular would frown every time she made eye contact. I never understood. When she first started, I feared that I had cracked, but I didn't feel anything. So that must not have been it. Then I figured she had a bad day, but it continued for weeks, which arubtly turned into months.

Obviously, I could do nothing to help her, but I wanted to know what was wrong with her. Why she always look so forlorn when looking in my direction. I waited and watched and paid attention to every detail about her.

Then I would study her brother, but he tended to ignore me completely. He wasn't very helpful in trying to spot the difference. The two of them only made me more confused about my purpose if all I brought them was discomfort.

But maybe it wasn't me. Maybe it was something else bothering them. Perhaps it was just I that reminded them of what they don't like. But what would they not like? Certainly, it wasn't the wall behind them that I reflected, unless they didn't like the pegs to hang up the towels. Though, if that made them that uncomfortable, then it wouldn't be there to begin with. Perhaps I was dirty? No. They cleaned me very often. It wouldn't be that.

Maybe it wasn't me at all. Maybe it was something completely different. Perhaps it was school. Or a bad friendship or relationship? But then why would they frown only when looking directly at me. Or even just turn away, pretending as if I did not exist.

As a mirror, it was my duty to serve my purpose to help them. Why was I here if I couldn't do at least that? Given, I was designed to help people see their reflection to make sure they looked ok and didn't have bed hair. Or to use me so that they could shave their facial hair. The purposes were endless, yet I was unable to understand what was wrong.

Maybe it was because I was without a brain that it took so long to finally realize that it it truly did have nothing to do with me. They didn't like their reflection. I came to this realization when the girl slammed the bathroom door shut and was crying. I could hear her mother through the door trying council her. Then the girl made the claim that a boy she liked had called her ugly.

Ugly? Is that what they thought? I had reflected many people in my lifetime. Whether it was when new people moved in and out of the house, or when I was first created and transported from place to place. Not once did I find her ugly.

But after that day, the mother would come into the bathroom before the girl and boy got ready for school. She would a post-it on either side of me. One pink, the other yellow. They were messages and quotes. One for her daughter, the other for her son.

I swelled up with pride to know that I carried the messages they read every morning. I got to watch them grow through the year and slowly become more and more comfortable with themselves.

One day, the girl smiled in the mirror and said, "Looking good." That made me happy. She had grown to love herself.

The boy paused one morning after he washed his face. He didn't glance in the mirror, he stared into it. A flicker of understanding entered his eyes as if it finally clicked to him that he shouldn't be afraid of his reflection. He finally saw who he was and not what others perceived him to be.

Neither of them were perfect or completely over criticizing themselves, but it was far less done. As time passed, the less it happened and the more they grew to appreciate themselves.

A day came when the post-its stopped being written and the boy and girl moved with their parents to a new home. Then a new family came, but this time, I was wiser. I understood when they battled their reflections, but this time, I hoped to make them see things a little more clearer so they could see themselves the way I see them.