The jagged line falls crooked upon my face

The jagged line falls crooked upon my face, splitting my features into a grimace of subtle carnage. It emerges from my throat and swivels its way across my lips, around my nose, and between my eyes. It finds its final resting place on the left side of my forehead. As I reach my fingers to touch it, it moves- skipping slightly to the right or left as I try to feel it, as I try to know that it is there and tangible. With spidery legs, it crawls across my face, turning into swirls and scribbles - turning into fragments and scars - and I can't quite touch it. I see it thought - a red, angry line with furry edges to it, with shadowy energy that stretches across my features and mars any attempt I make at feeling good.

Something isn't right and I'm not quite sure what it is. The feeling of uneasiness creeps throughout my being and as I stare at my face in the mirror, my heart starts to hurt. I want to take my hand and punch through the glass, reach to the broken figure on the other side and shake her up, tell her that she's got to stop judging herself. I want to take a paintbrush and fill her skin with the colors of her soul. I want her to be purple, and red, and yellow, and green, and blue, and orange. I want her eyes to have sharp, reflective glass as eyelids, and her mouth to be made of red, spicy licorice.My skin looks like milk and my eyes are the color of raging oceans  - is this the feeling that I have woken up with for the day?

I take a moment and take in the beauty of the image I've created before me. In reality, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror - still groggy-eyed; trying to grasp the last few tendrils of my dream (something about a tiny car and math problems). Although my morning face is nothing to laud on magazine covers, it is not as dramatic as my, perhaps still dormant, mind would lead me to believe. I still see the imaginary lines that staring too long at myself has started to create. If I try, I can still summon that feeling of unease and that need to conceal my emotion. The problem is, I've long since misplaced my mask - the one I used to wear to ensure that I would just get-through-the-day.

What we have the most trouble grasping, perhaps, is that the mirror we glance into every morning is a liar. Even the most well-intentioned panes of reflective glass will, at the very best, only show us a reflection of what they believe we are. All mirrors, having gone through extensive mirror schooling, are taught that when a human being stands before them - whether they are pocket sized or body-length, they must show that human its form. The human, as they learned in Shapes We Reflect 101, will be the most likely creature to stand in front of them to do one of two basic functions:

1. Primp and admire themselves

or

2. Isolate flaws and allow liquid to leak from their eyes.


That is what mirrors are good at -creating a wall in which we allow ourselves an outsider's perspective of how we view our bodies. Yet, they are remarkably inefficient at showing us how we view our hearts, our minds, our souls...

As most women living in a Indian society do, I have had my share of battles with the mirror. Often times, its entrancing glow has fooled me into believing that it can absorb insulting thoughts I hurl at myself (only to reflect them back on to me and stick to my body like those little annoying summer flies). Other times, its deceptive silver pools taunted me into admiring the ways I was restricting and ravaging my body. In either case, it still was an outsider to me, and one that could not define for me who I was, or what is important to me.

What we struggle to realize, as humans, is that we seek that same reflection not just from panes of glass and stretched aluminum, but also from other humans around us. Imagine! Even those of us who try to cultivate an inner calm seek a level of validation from our environments. This need may come from a deeper, more vulnerable place than we realize - we are drawn to those that mirror our current level of self-love and reflection.

Think about it - at certain points in your life, were you not drawn to people who confirmed for you the "label" you choose to wear at the time? When you went through that rock & roll phase, were not those standing next to you in the mirror also wearing leather and studs? And of those people, how many have remained when you switched from one label to the next?

Yesterday, I bought a rainbow bracelet.

The last time that I wore one was when I was 19 years old and struggling to come out of the closet. Although I had known my own truth from a very young age, I still struggled to accept it within myself. At the time, I sought the bracelet so I could at least reflect a part of my identity on a tiny part of my body. The rest of my body owned the battle between my mind and my heart  - actual scars and moments of real emotional upheaval. I needed to be defined by that rainbow on my arm, I needed to say "this is who I really am" because the world around me did not reflect it, and those close to me who I sought reflection from did not allow for it.

Life is series of changes and transitions and through each one, we have the ability and opportunity to grow and redefine. The mirrors that we look in - whether they are metallic or sapient - reflect to us what we choose to own. We all go through this - it is the perfectly normal process of separating and individuating from identities given to us, from labels, and categories and boxes.

We forget that the most honest mirror of who we are is the one we walk around with every day. Not the one in our purses and flip-combs - the one that lives within where the four corners of our being - heart, mind, body, spirit - meet.

Today, I wear the bracelet as a sign of pride- I am proud of my identity  - as a man, Bharatiya, writer, healer, survivor, teacher, student, trainer, weird, intelligent, emotional, spiritual, youthful, yogi, queer, dumb, dumber, inquisitive, listener,......and more...


All parts of it.

The mirrors in my life have shifted over time, and many have shattered. Many have left shards and pieces within me as well that I have had to work hard at removing, or accepting. Now, the mirrors outside of me have bent and learned to reflect honesty and love as I have learned to accept myself with this truth and love.  In the end, we can define and redefine ourselves at any given moment of the day - and even in moments within those moments. What enables us to grow is to live our truths and allow others around us to the same...

We are the only ones who can define who we are  - we are the experts of our own experience.