The Mirror That Refused to Reflect

The Mirror That Refused to Reflect

One morning I stood before the glass,

expecting the same tired face,

the same eyes,

the same familiar echo.

But the mirror gave me nothing.

Not a shadow,

not a smile,

not even proof that I was there.

It wasn’t broken,

it simply chose silence.

At first, I laughed.

I waved, blinked, leaned closer.

But the glass stayed still

a pond that swallowed me whole

without giving anything back.

Then I felt it,

a whisper in the air,

as if the mirror was alive:

I’m not your servant.

I’m tired of showing you

what you already know.

I froze.

Who expects rebellion from glass?

But in that refusal,

I began to question myself.

Had I mistaken repetition for truth?

Had I confused habit with identity?

Without reflection,

I wasn’t so sure who I was anymore.

Days passed.

Windows unsettled me.

Water only rippled.

Shadows played tricks.

I felt lost

but also strangely free.

One night,

with rain on the window

and a candle flickering,

I faced the mirror again.

This time,

shapes stirred in the silence.

Not me

but many.

A barefoot child with curious eyes.

A woman with calloused hands,

laughter buried in silence.

A weary figure bent with weight.

And strangers too

unknown,

yet somehow familiar,

as though they had lived inside me all along.

The mirror whispered without words:

*“You are not just one face.

You are a chorus of selves.

Why should I trap you in sameness

when you are endless becoming?”*

And I understood.

The mirror hadn’t abandoned me.

It had freed me.

For years,

I had stared at one mask

and called it “me.”

Now I knew

I am movement.

I am change.

I am more than one reflection.

The next morning,

I didn’t need the mirror.

I dressed without proof.

I smiled without echo.

Wholeness, I realized,

is not captured in glass

it’s carried within.

Yet sometimes I return.

Some days it shows me nothing.

Some days it shows me many.

And sometimes

when the moon is kind

it shows me a self I have not yet met.

The mirror that refused to reflect

did not betray me.

It saved me.

It taught me this:

A reflection is only an image.

But you

you are the light

that makes it possible.