BETRAYAL . CHAPTER 6 . THE WOMAN IN THE MIRROR
- Kate Larsen
- Jan 10
- 3 min read
Updated: Jan 28
CHAPTER SIX
The Woman in the Mirror
"She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflection of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself.”
~Anais Nin
His image had become the lightening rod for my disappointment, hurt, anger and frustration.
It wasn’t always that way.
I used to see the whole world in his eyes.
Maybe when we love someone we are searching for pieces of ourselves.
My mother was a teacher. She told me that if a small child looks at you and sees themselves reflected back as wonderful, that is all they need.
They look for themselves in your eyes.
Is that what we do; seek the eyes of the beloved because they are mirrors?
Like the wicked queen, do we fall in love with our own reflection?
If that is true then he and I both became the Cyclops.
If that is true then love is both a life raft and a stone.
Over the years we built up an intricate map of triggers and escape routes; strategies to find what we had lost and ways to lick our wounds. And one fundamental difference between us cracked the foundation of our castle.
He desired life and I desired him.
All I really wanted was to be tangled up in a white sheet in his arms in an Italian monastery forever.
When he turned away and my reflection was gone, I felt like the bottom had fallen out of my world.
I became a desperate woman.
Like an addict, I was hooked on the reflection in my lovers eyes.
And when I couldn’t have it, I would do anything. Even stab myself in the heart.
So much time spent building fences and watching the perimeter of the garden, and the snake was in here all the time.
It was him. But it was me too.
Seeing my own reflection has been a big shock. It’s not who I expected to see.
They say you’re only as sick as your secrets.
My secret is that I was desperate to see myself reflected as the good queen – the one princes would fight dragons for. Turns out I’m the other one.
When he took a lover I wanted to kill them both.
I’ve been judgmental, shaming, punishing and have placed myself in that muddy water between us, navigating and walking against the stream trying to get what I wanted.
The truth is I may not have loved him at all; I’m not even sure I knew him.
I only knew how we were together.
Being separated for years now, there has been a lot of space between the catastrophe and the aftermath; space to grieve, to see myself jump and shudder when I am triggered, to cocoon myself, to comfort myself, to feel, and to think.
Where are the bones of my elegant life? I’m in danger of missing it all.
I see my own face in the mirror.
When a heart cracks open maybe it lets in the light.
I was a part of this.
I want to stop looking for myself in eyes and mirrors and look around.
I want it to be enough to be me, here in this incredible, terrifyingly temporary place.
I want to shatter the mirror and put reflections back where they belong – on the water and in the sky.
As the body changes and experiences gather like a bag of provisions, I now have a second chance to learn about love. A cracked and crooked heart can love another cracked and crooked heart.
There are no guarantees.
It’s a big mystery. We’re here together - for such a short time.
And as I always say: looking down on us from 20 feet in the air, we all look the same.
...to be continued...
By Kate Larsen . First Published in Island Gals Magazine . 2012 . Volume 2 . Issue 2
