A man stood at the mirror for the first time with his mind. A black spot on his face had been a source of concern for many people but never a concern for him. Everybody around him wondered what others perceived of him, but he never was concerned about it. However, the term all people here didn’t include one of the most closest person to him, his mum. She had been a source of inspiration, every single morning she never forgot to tell him how wonderful and marvelous he looked. He had taken all these words in his heart, literally and never gave a thought to any other differing opinion.
He was now a grow up man and he needed a woman to walk with him, and share the joys that the world brings together. He had been told that when it gets to a certain age, men, in order for them to be happy take women and vow to live together till death does put them asunder. It was time to cross over to this stage.
It should be a natural process, no coaching needed, when that appointed time comes, all will work as predestined. But you’ve got to take the first step, he does remember the Sunday youth group leader say.
This Monday morning he stood at the mirror for the first time with a wounded heart. A new self had been made possible by his quest for a partner. After making the first step to approach, he was shown the dark scar in his face and he was now looking at it for the first time. Not really the first time, but in the presence of two voices pulling away from each other. Since it was in the morning, mum came and uttered her usual words. This time they cut deep into his heart. Soon as the word came to him, he realized how deep he had been cheated on by the sweet words.
Factors and actors beyond the sweetness of mum were beginning to make sense in his life.
But it’s not that the girl he targeted had used too harsh of words. It’s that he could not love. The passion that ignites all men was in absence, beyond his fathom. That morning when he looked at his face, he not only saw his scar, but also the scar inside him. The two combined cut through his heart and mind, leaving him helpless subjected to vulnerability never thought of before. But hasn’t it been like that ever since?
It’s not that mum was wrong, she knew there was a scar. The remedy was to make the inner man strong, and with that the arsenal of conquer had been given into the hands of the young man. But either the man or the mum didn’t allow the forces from outside to narrate their story as they see it.
We are not all beautiful and charming. Some people might want us to believe so. And we might want to believe so because we feel good about it. The other, sees whatever is on our faces. And they call them by their names. Our self as constructed by me and mum exclusively might be a monologue, a single story. It might be that time that you went to the mirror, this time with your mind, to meet yourself.