Do you ever stop and look at yourself in the mirror? Do you ever look at all those pieces that are broken? I do. When my husband's off work at the end of the day, when it's quiet in the house, and everyone's outside; I just look at myself and think "Look at all this shattered glass." How fragile our human condition is.
I try to think back to the very moment I shattered into pieces. Was it when was mentally abused by my uncle when I was small? Was it when I was bullied as a child for having red curly hair? Was it when my mother compared her body to magazines? Was it when I started comparing my body to other classmates? Or was it when I was sexually abused by someone much older than me? Maybe it was the moment that I was brainwashed to be this picture perfect fiance? Or was it when I was told I was never and would never be enough for anyone? Was it when I was told I wasn't good enough to be with the man I love by his own mother? Or was it when I was told I was unlovable? Was it when I was a sole provider for our family and I was terrified of losing everything? Maybe it was when I was called fat by a family member? Maybe it was when I got cancer? Or it could be when I had radiation and was secluded from my own husband and everyone for 10 days? Maybe it's when they cut you open to remove your diseases? Or was it when I carried my dead son for 13 weeks and didn't know it? Maybe it was when they left some of his corpse inside of me for a month before they removed the rest of him? Or maybe it's when I almost lost my daughter due to a placental abruption? It could have been when I had such terrible PPD? When I hid from the world behind this mask of perfection? Maybe when I became this person that I didn't even know so I could be part of the stepford wives club? Maybe it was when I found out I was having twins and they were ripped from me? I suppose we all suffer. We all have so many broken pieces. Maybe each terrible situation has its own special piece.
I think the problem is that we try to take all those pieces and put them all back. But they can't go back. You can never go back from something like those. Those things change you forever. Did you ever think that all those pieces aren't meant to be put back together? My shattered mirror is never meant to be back together. It is beautiful in it's brokenness. I don't have to be whole to be my true self and love my true self. All of my shattered mirror is all of me. That mirror will never be whole because it was never meant to be. My brokenness is beautiful. I am real.
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