I look in the mirror and see what I am.
I start to cry.
For in the mirrors of my mind I see what I could have become.
Is that the ultimate in teen angst or what? I wrote it when I was about fourteen, in my poetic phase.
Isn't it funny how at the age of fourteen I thought I was all I would ever be? That who I was then was who I would be for life?
I was such a perfectionist back then, absolutely unwilling to forgive myself for the smallest flaws. I'm sure that depressive episode, aside from being hormonal, was about not doing well on a test or disappointing my parents. It didn't take much to make me get down on myself back then.
Unfortunately, that fourteen-year old girl is still inside me. I still tend to be a perfectionist about many things. And it's still way too easy for me to get down on myself.
I'm doing better, but I still have room for improvement.
And now I know that. I know that I will continue to grow and progress. Trite though it is, I am a human becoming not a human being (I know - *big groan* - sorry to be so cheesy).
I can always be more. And my idea of what more is changes as I grow older. I think smarter will always be part of it; I want to be smart. But now wiser is more important than smarter. Having lots of people like me is great, but having lots of people that I love is better. Producing a lot that is visible to others is wonderful. But the internal growth that no one else sees is of more value to me now.
Learning that I judge myself far more than others judge me was important. Learning that I am the only one whose judgments matter was vital.
The mirrors of my mind are more forgiving now. I see more clearly now. And I am content with what I see.