mirrors

I sometimes find it eerie seeing myself portrayed in what people say about me. It's like looking in a mirror and, each time, seeing a different reflection. Understandably (perhaps) people assume that the version of me they can see is the one that everyone sees, that that's me, that i'm one person no matter who i'm with.

Some know me as a friend, others as a slave. A boyfriend, a son, a brother. A neighbour. Some know me from school, some from this blog. Some know me as a co-worker others as a patient. Some find me bossy, others submissive. Polite and rude, accommodating and immovable. Too playful. Too serious. Immature, experienced. Some have met me at a party, others in a chat room. Some have given birth to me and raised me and others have taken me and turned me into something else. Some have known me for 5 minutes and others for a lifetime. Some who've known me for years feel that they don't know me that well. Others who have met me 5 minutes ago swear they know me inside out. It's not unusual for those who've known me for 5 minutes to feel that they know me better than those who've know me for a lifetime. Sometimes they're right. Often they're not.

But whereas people come in contact with one version of me, i am confronted with all those different reflections where every time i'm put in a different box, classified under a different label. But some of these labels burn and leave marks that stay for a long time. For ever, even, piling up confusingly one over the other.

Fortunately, in the midst of all this chaos, a selected few can, with one word, bring peace and order all around me again.