What does love look like?
I have been looking into mirrors almost twice a day during most of my life. Once when I wear my makeup and once when I have to remove it. Sometimes I look into mirrors more than that. But I realized recently that I have not really been seeing into the mirror. I haven't been seeing besides the executive functions of my actions at those moments, I didn't pay attention to the changes, the facial characteristics, the marks, the details... Because I was reassured that it was still me, the very same me that grew older but remained the same.
Until one day, recently, I noticed that something was missing, something was added and something had changed. I did. I changed and I changed so much that I barely recognized myself. But I do recognize in that unknown face into the mirror, all of my experiences, all of my past memories, my life stories, my lovers and my friends, my family and my colleagues, my beloved and my indifferent others. I recognize each one of the people who stood by me, who betrayed me, who I feel embarrassed to look into their eyes, who I cherish or the ones I miss, the ones who support me, tolerate or judge me. I recognize all of them and the diverse feelings they all have offered to me through the years. Either i am blonde or brunette, thinner or thicker, close or far away from them. I have never thought that it would be possible to remember all the people that I have ever met and I still don't think it's possible but I can tell that their signs, their own marks are left here in that small mirror of my new bathroom. I changed because of them, because of my will to know them or to ignore them, to love or to hate them, to remember or to forget them. How could I know when I was a little girl, a daydreamer full of ambitions and life expectations, a daughter that was supposed to make the best of herself that I would be so deeply marked by so many people? How could the kid inside my little heart know that I would be nourished by other people's energy, actions, emotions? How could I know that all this amazing stepping stones would make me a whole new person?
Now that I know that, do I need to get to know this new person all over again? This new resident of my body? It was wisdom that is added to my face. I can see that laying down the doubt i have been carrying with me towards humanity ever since the very first time I felt hurt. The scars are fading and each piece of love I receive covers them so smoothly that I dare to think of my good luck.
I can see a serious amount of luck accumulated in the surface of my skin. I can touch it but as much makeup I wear I cannot cover it. It just glows, it just shines. And I can see the light. How was I so stupId before to neglect that? Was my mirror blurry or was I so confused by my routine? Was love what I needed in order to clear my mirror? Love... come on, you know it's the word that is almost daily used and abused. For what? For our deepest need to feel whole, to feel happy, to feel the breathe of satisfaction, to exist, to whatever verb you can add here... love is the power, love is the motivation, love is the goal and the journey. We search, we try, we give and we take. But love resists, has its own terms, its own demands. Love is picky, stubborn, like a child. Love doesn't look into mirrors, love doesn't change, love is what it is. Glorious, magnificent, a magical marker, a smile, a rainbow, a sunshine, a touch, a taste, a look, a kiss, a word, a place, a person, a home, a friend, a dog, a wave, a song, a flower. Love is everything big and everything small and everything in between. It is dominant, has no territory and no laws. But it is indeed a state of mind.
I feel humble when I have to describe love. Sometimes I feel like I haven't received enough in order to recognize its traits. Other times I feel like I haven't given enough in order to identify how it works. In terms of love I know nothing. My mirror is not revealing anything beyond the marks on my face. And that's what is missing from my new face in my small mirror in my new bathroom. I miss my inner child. I left it somewhere around the corner to play but I forgot to ask it if thats ok. If that child is ok with being left alone to play. Who was I kidding? No child would be happy with that, not even ok. I didn't know how to handle, how to raise that abandoned child. I just forgot it. The mirror brought it back into my eyes. Blurry as it was, the child was there, starving for love, marked by life, innocent as I remembered it and generous as it shouldn't be. The child was alive. Love kept it breathing. Love fed it, even the hope for love.
See, the human mind is puzzled. It can lead you to amazing paths, it can devastate your whole existence or it can keep you walking towards your destiny. The human mind, this storage room that we tend to keep all messy. Like our child. Our first remembrance of ourself. And we use it almost every second. We even use parts of that while sleeping. Can you imagine how many great things we could achieve if our mind and heart could work together? Can you see how much greatness could love and reason give birth to? That's what the mirror made me realize. If I can look into myself and see my changes one by one, if I can love the new icon inside that mirror, if I can play now with my inner child after so many years then I can do almost everything. Love us never washed away. Love is waiting to be found, to be felt. Sometimes we need to take some distances from our self, our emotions, our past experiences. Then we just have to create again our most important and valuable project; the one that will make us a child again. A wiser child who will play with us, who will love us, who will show us the world through new lenses, who will hold our hand no matter what. This project to love our inner child, to love ourself, to love our life. This is love.
And this is the only way to love everything else around and outside of our mirrors. And they will never be blurry again.
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The question isn't "How did I end up in the fashion industry?" The question is "Why did it take so long?" #ThisIsLove