The Mirror…Versus…..Her

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Shana bolts for the brown, glass, front door, charging this wooden enemy that stands between her and her inside world. Her ardent breaths get louder as she reaches the door's guarded lock. She sharply inserts the key and twists quickly, relief at the famous click which announces that her safety awaits. At the cackle of the just the first creak of the old hinges, she pierces gratefully into her Holy sanctuary. The beige walls tune their ears swiftly enough to hear her whisper “Amen”. Then one by one, the masks of “I’m fine” and “I’m doing okay” and "I got this" start to slide off the truth of her face and as they fall against the cold, white tiles, the reverberation leaves her stunned. Her shoulders shudder as she steps inward, still stealing a chance to take in the alluring scent of welcome. Here in this sacred space, Shana feels free to unveil herself of the portraits she has painted for society’s canvas.  

Public enemy number one awaits however, an opponent, who for years, she has not been able to defeat. He is mighty and reckoning. Shana grimaces at the thought of him sitting smugly upon the wall, boisterous with his glimmer and his transparent mocking gestures. He loved to see right through her and so facing him is inevitable. A shower after a long hard day is exactly what she needs but she silently wishes there was another route to her bathroom, one that does not involve saying hello to this silver beast. As she slowly approaches the bathroom where he lurks, she inhales deeply and regrettably because he is the only one to see her wounds and force them to bleed with his glare. Only he can crack her open and nudge repeatedly until truth gushes out of her veins. With a heavy sigh, she enters.

The mirror’s lens is piercing. He smiles and beckons her to come closer. The ghastly invader poses on the wall like the crucifix of God, reflection outstretched, waiting for Shana to divulge her sins. “I know you,” he whispers, “how was your day?” She stares sternly, then rolls her eyes, firing off the first warning shot, but oh, the audacity of the mirror to stare right back and roll his eyes too. Suddenly, it happens all over again. The mirror beguiles Shana, forcing her to confess, a disconcerting task. The walls rejoice too because they love the secrets and sins and so they cheer the mirror on with their beige chants. Helpless she stares, and she shakingly begins to tell him about the masks she must put on daily because she is afraid of human intrusion. She tells him how much they pelt the help she asks right back into her face, how they take her scars and unstitch them, jabbing at her healing, incessantly reminding her of what she will never transcend into. Between tears, she also tells him about the man who takes her love to fuel his worth and then discards her without a reason, insulting the injury by showing off his newly plastered smiles that cage the sharp teeth that severed her heart.

The mirror is persistent, glistening under the white light, he desires more. His burning gaze dares her to carry on. She tells him about that thing she did not mean to do, which cost her the trust of the people she had worked so hard to build, she tells him about those people who have hurt her with the power of social exclusion, gaslighting her soul and burning her to the ground, till her ashes just flew along with the wind, making it almost impossible for her to belong. She tells him of the pain of being barren, her incapacity to bring forth new life to hold, for the man that God has purposed her, promising to take to the grave the true reason why this is so. She tells him of the weight of being human, being so similar yet incomprehensibly different, feeling little connection to others of the same species. A heavy sigh ensues, and Shana catches herself and halts. Now she is totally naked, exposed, standing browbeaten to that jeering reflection in the mirror.

The mirror is shocked at all this revelation. This time though, he does not laugh. Never before has he heard these truths, but he sees Shana, sees her for who she really is. The mirror empathizes. Then without a second thought, he forces her reflection’s silhouette to shine brightly, to extend and embrace her. Standing there, ashamed of her nakedness, head lowered, she suddenly feels the robe of truth engulf her tightly. With the truth warmly embosoming her, Shana and her reality become conjoined. Then the mirror's taps with its shine and whispers “acknowledge the pain and move through it, I have never been against you, I just had to be daring so you can honour your truth". Shana smiles at the realization that it was never the mirror against her, it was her against herself, an internal war on the battlefield of the mind, fought without defense. Tonight, she is stunned to unearth that truth is her shield. This is how she will win.

 From tonight onward, the mirror will have nothing more to hold against her, but her own true image. "Persist;" she sighs, gladly. 

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