Reflections

By Mary Moos

REALITY, PERCEPTION OR BOTH

Mirror, mirror on the wall who’s the fairest of them all? So said the wicked queen in Snow White. She was desperately seeking assurances of her beauty. Every child hearing the story knew the queen could not be beautiful. She was mean and selfish inside. Her magic mirror told her what she wanted to hear…that she could fool the world. With the arrival of Snow White as a begroaning beautiful adult the mirror could no longer continue its deception. It had to tell the truth.

I feel a bit of empathy for the queen…not a lot but a little. Although centuries separate the two of us, we grew up in a world that placed the highest value on appearances. We both learned that hiding our insecurities, fears, and imperfections, real or imagined, was important if we were to be loved.

In my thirties I dressed for success. I created and curated a carefully crafted bespoke suit of armor… dramatic fashionable clothes…most homemade or purchased at the Oval Room on sale. I wore eyeliner and occasionally false eyelashes. I thought it kept people from seeing the insecurity that lay just behind my eye lids. I painted my nails blood red. I smoked. I thought it was sophisticated. Besides it was another screen between me and the world that threatened to expose my naivety. I was pleased with my creation. I checked my reflection frequently in any available shinny surface. It was critical that no one penetrate my meticulosity constructed veneer.

What made me most uncomfortable were photographs. They were the queen’s magic mirror that ceased its deception. The camera had the ability to permanently capture an inert image of me. It was not a quickly passing reflection in a store window or mirror from which I could disappear. I didn’t like to look at pictures of myself. They made me feel exposed. I was forced to face the deception of my façade. Of course I was the only one who could see it.

After getting older, some embarrassing lessons and more than a few moments of enlightenment I have the courage to let the camera reflect my real self.

There are many types of reflections other than mirrors and photographs. Last month I confronted a new terrifying one.

Since retirement I’ve been taking a memoir writing class. The class is small. Every other week we read aloud our story. Most everyone’s story is personal, some more than others. I’ve never felt awkward about revealing parts of my life to this class. The group is respectful and safe. I like and trust them.

Several months ago, I wrote a short story on aging for the class. I was encouraged to enter the story in a competition. The wining fifty entries would be compiled in a book, published, and sold on Amazon. I entered the competition and promptly forgot about it. I don’t consider myself a writer.

I was shocked when the call came telling me my story had been accepted for publication. The Gift of a Long Life: Personal stories on the aging experience, published by the Birren Center was to be released March 23, 2024. I was looking forward to seeing my story in print. Then reality hit me. The story was my thoughts, my words and my ideas. And, oh no it would be attached to my name…my real name! The more I thought about it the more anxious I became.

I realized why I hadn’t wanted to send any story to a competition or publication. I didn’t want to see my name and words out there for everyone to look at. For everyone to disagree with or find distasteful. I wanted to scream at them. Get your grubby judgmental eyes off my story NOW!

But most of all I wanted to take my story back. I wanted to put it safely in the folder with my other stories. I wanted to have control over who saw it. I didn’t want just any riffraff to look at it. I wanted to protect my story. I wanted to protect myself.

On Monday, March 25 I ordered a few copies of the book as gifts to say thank you to a few people. I didn’t order a copy for myself. I didn’t want to see this published reflection of myself. I thought I’d feel exposed, vulnerable and unprotected. I didn’t like the feeling of having a part of me hanging out there for the world to see.

Today, April 9 my copy arrived. I’m quite thrilled with seeing my words and name in print. I wonder when I can enter another competition.