Taking a Hard Look in the Mirror

Social media has this way of "flashing back" these days and reminding us all of where we were this exact day years ago. I have found that this turned into somewhat of an independent and sometimes daily mental battle. I'm reminded that I was once a wife. It's a strange feeling, to know that you once were in this position of entitlement and now you're simply the "mother of." That at some point in my young life I was someone's forever, I was the best part of their life, I was the wife and had rights that trumped privileges. On one post I even referred to myself as "the wife." Those words, so simple and easily slipping off my lips, tossed a stone at my heart and I started to wonder how I ever knew how to be a wife.

I don't think I really ever did. Not truly.
I'm much better at being a mother than I was at being a wife. I find fulfillment in being a mother and reflecting on how I was as a wife, I rarely found fulfillment. Whose fault is that really? Can I blame him for cheating if I wasn't excited about being his wife? Could I really have expected him to be honest with me if I couldn't be honest with myself? In trying to move forward in my current relationship, I've been forced to reflect on my past (self). I don't want to make the same mistakes and quite honestly, I'm afraid I will. I grew up in a family that was tainted with divorce. My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles had all gone through a divorce. I didn't go into my marriage with divorce as an option, but being a product of divorce made the concept real to me and I also didn't go into my marriage knowing what forever truly meant. I've never seen who a wife is supposed to be in a marriage, only what norms have been forced on me. I tried so hard to adhere to those norms and in the process completely lost the small fractions of myself that I once had. I didn't even notice it when it was happening. I thought it was normal to be a wife and have no friends. I didn't think adults made friends. I developed tunnel vision and was blind to everyone else around me.

For the first time in my adult life I have been receiving a massive amount of judgement based off assumptions and what others think of as acceptable behavior. I am by no means perfect, I have tried and failed and with that failure finally realized that perfection is fleeting and in the end not an obtainable characteristic.

For years I would conform to what others wanted me to do, my passions and self love was thrown into the ashes because; who cares about my heart (it's broken anyway)? It seemed the moment I wanted to dust off the ashes and begin to love myself so many loved ones "didn't know me anymore." I'm experiencing being a failure for the first time. Initially I thought it would be a humbling experience, that I would feel stronger even though I had people telling me I was a "sorry excuse for a mother," everything they were "running from," "the worst thing to ever happen" to them, "selfish," "fat and disgusting." I'm a lover of words and words have been taking me out execution style. I never intended to be someone's failure. For so long I would pride myself on making the right decisions and being the one people would stick up for. Having someone you once loved show you nothing but hatred is probably one of the most difficult feelings to deal with (especially when you've chosen to forgive them and move on with your life).

I recently found a couple journals where I attempted to jot things down. I went through phases where I would write down my feelings, but then would be scared he would read them again, so I'd hide them away and forget about them. When I was reading through one journal last night there were numerous entries where I think I knew I was losing. I knew I was losing my soul and my strength and my own identity, but I was scared of how to find it all again. I wanted so badly not to fail and in the process I let go of a lot of the dreams and gifts I was given at a young age. I allowed perfection to dissipate and became comfortable in angst.

Age has forced me to look back at these things and I find myself questioning the younger me. When did I get so lost that I couldn't even see through the wind? I read somewhere that we will never know what we truly look like, only the reflection made from a mirror or in a picture. We'll never get to see ourselves the way others see us. Of course, I took this metaphorically as well. A mirror will only reflect what we impose on it, however, sometimes we forget that if there is a bend or crack in the mirror, our image may be distorted, The same can be said for the people in our lives, and in my case my husband (when I was married). He was my mirror. I only saw myself how he saw me, the reflection I imposed on him was what I thought was a suitable wife, but he was bent in some corners that were invisible to the naked (married) eye and cracked in the middle. I don't think we ever really see the distortions that the mirror has because we're so focused on how we have become distorted and fixing ourselves (in the other person's image).

Here's the hard part. I realize that perfection is only a manifestation of what we feel is flawless and the reality is that as human beings we are incapable of adhering to all the requirements those around us create in order for us to be perfect. However, there is a small population of us, who even in the midst of the opposition, still aim for that perfection with a blind eye to the fact that we will never reach it.  But what is perfection anyway? Is it dinner on the table by 6:30 every evening? Is it completely altering your life to orbit another person's? Is it not talking about things that hurt your feelings? Is it being a size four? Is it having it all figured out by 30?

If this is perfection, I suppose I'll never have it, but I guess that's why I don't look in the same mirror any more.