Until the fat lady sings...

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

I stare at the woman in the mirror and it stares back at me. I already sound old. Maybe, I am old. Old enough to address myself as a woman, not a girl anymore. Let’s stick to calling her a ‘lady’ instead, more refined, finer! Today, and as it has been for sometime, I see a tired young lady staring back so much that I think if she were to write her final note, it would just read three words, “I am tired!”

The caveat is however, knowing her all these years, I know she never will. She is one stubborn soul and she won’t let the ones who wronged her, also defeat her.

It’s hard enough for me to write this in first person.

I look into the mirror and I see those deep eyes of a little girl in white staring back at me. One that today wishes that she were held more, but every time I try to comfort her, she evades my grip. She has a mind of her own, places to be, narratives to break and stories to rebuild.

I keep staring at the lady in the mirror and from it stares back a badass warrior. Call her anything you may, she has a quiet thuggish nonchalance about her. Someone with her head held high, though her spirit could wane at times, but her middle finger up at the world. She sees the ones like her, the ones who refuse to bend their conscience and silence their truth, something that almost silenced her for good to belong in your good books. She knows she has one life and doesn’t for a single moment believe that yours is more important than hers. She doesn’t believe that irrespective of who you think you are, however important or not, making you comfortable by perishing herself is more valuable. She is ready to take up space and own it too. The world around can squirm for all she cares and choke on her truth.

When I look in the mirror, I see grief staring back. Grief at what could have been if she had a normal story like most else. Maybe she would have a normal job, a normal family, a normal mundane life. She would be that face lost in the crowds, but pleasantly and unawares so because she would not be judged and dissected. She would revel in her normalcy, get hitched at 25 and live to a ripe 95 with another normally special man and a normally special life, her special life. The reason why she doesn’t romanticize celebrity couples, the liaisons of convenience, but the regular ones who live simply and are devoted to one other and live to a ripe happy age. That’s her kind of special.

I keep looking and I see possibilities staring back at me. Possibilities of what she could be or could have been. Of lost opportunities and gained wisdom. Of the trade off’s made, of all that was sacrificed for all that was yearned. The bigger plan, the alternate existence.

At times I look into the mirror and see judgment, envy and even contempt. Mind you, not hers, but of the ones standing around and about, the sweet talkers, but the ill wishers, the ones who will stir the pot as the grime settles to bring back the chaos up. I keep looking irrespective and I see a rebel, one that simply says, “It’s not over until the fat lady sings.” I see a story of resilience, a raw deluded resilience. There is somehow no judgmental shadow that people speak of, but an understanding one that knows where she comes from and what it took to keep going. The lady in the mirror looks at me with compassion and begs me to give life one more try.

When I look into the mirror, I see an infinite number of images staring back like you see in the parallel mirrors of a dressing room, like my soul changing attires with each one. The good part? None are condescending, none mock me. I have always had enough and more compassion to offer to the world, and each one of them staring back, now offer the same to me and beckon and guide me the way to infinite possibilities.

It certainly isn’t over until the fat lady sings. Fat or not, maybe, I am that lady.

I picked up this prompt from a fellow substaker

Abhishek Singh

….”Whom do you see when you look in the mirror?”

https://substack.com/home/post/p-166800239

☝️The link to the original post….