Monday, February 22, 2010

Monday's Mental Meanderings

I’m feeling a little disjointed today. My regular routine was thrown under the bus when I had to get up an hour earlier than normal to get my husband off to the airport as he travels for business. Do any of you live near Nashville? Can you keep an eye out or him?

Its mornings like this that I am reminded of my devotion to routine. Switch up my routine and it really discombobulates me. A whole domino effect occurs and can only be righted by nightfall / bedtime. Hopefully.

On a different note – I had my hair trimmed/cut a week or so ago. I needed it tidied up, but also suggested some different arrangements. The two cutters that I would usually entrust my head to are no longer available. And I do not entrust my head lightly. I have so little in it, but what I do have is necessary.

Long story short, I decided to try a recommendation of a friend, and she did a nice job.

However – given the length and shape there are times when I look in the mirror and startle myself. The person looking back at me is not I, but my mom. Which gives me a horror level shiver up my spine. It’s not that my mother was hideous or anything, its just that I don’t want to be the person she was - jealous, alcoholic, mean sarcastic, insecure, and blinded to her own poor excuse for a marriage.

She had her good points – she was creative, devoted to my dad … did I say creative?

What I need to remind myself of when I get scared of seeing all too clearly the reflection the comes with disturbing memories is that I AM NOT her. I am my own person. Albeit with my own flaws, but I like to think I’m living more self-aware. I will not live the life of a martyr or victim – like my mother did.

I am not my mother. I am my own person.

I can’t help the way I look – a combination of both parents, but mostly my mom’s hair and eye’s. I have no idea where this nose came from (probably a throw back from a long deceased relative. Blast those infernal genes anyway).

My mom and I had a rocky relationship at but I can’t allow that to flavour the life that I have been blessed with.

What about you? Who do you see when you look in the mirror?


Anonymous said...

I still see a 12-year old pirate. I guess that's a good thing.

Becky said...

I see my mom's nose and chin, and my dad's cheeks and beady eyes. My smile is all mine. The sadness is all theirs. Oh, family. So complicated.

Shanel said...

Such a good question... it almost made me cry reading your post... I know that wasn't the intent... but I got emotional because I can relate and I'm a VERY emotional person anyway... so to answer your question... I see my mother.. I hatet he word mother btw... she wasn't much of one... I see her smile... I see her nose... I'm a darker complexion.. but I resemble her greatly... sucks:( But I too have to remember that I am not her...

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