The Pain That Made Me

I hated the mirror. It reflected Me., all of me. The imperfections, the flaws, the tiny genetic errors that composed the person id see. Every day I would find something new to hate. That blemish that always reappears. That scar that never fades. The fact that my eyes are too close together. Little things that gradually became something too big to ignore. Soon i didn't just hate my imperfections, I hated myself.

 

I hated that i wasn’t as pretty as her.

 

I hated that i wasn’t as thin as her.

 

I hated that i wasn’t as smart as her.

 

But most of all...

 

I hated that i was never good enough for her.

 

Every child wants to make their parents proud, whether it’s that straight 'A' report card or the macaroni art from kindergarten. We all strive for their acceptance. we feel it’s our duty as their offspring to not only reflect who they are upon ourselves but to also do so in a manner that makes even the dullest light appear to be a shining star.

 

I was no exception.

 

I’d do anything in my power to make her look at me, in hopes of seeing that glint of pride in her eyes.

 

That one look that said i was her only success in life.

 

But every time those deep brown eyes met mine, I could see that i was her only failure.

 

I sighed and looked away from the mirror once a small twinge of pain hit my heart.

 

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, to soothe away the displeasing thoughts.

 

When i opened my eyes something caught my attention. I carefully lifted the charm of my necklace upward to get a better view. It was the shimmer of the florescent lights against the silver cross that had seized my attention. This charm, small and fragile, was a symbolic of my mother’s love for me. It had been the only gift id received on my 8th birthday. When she handed me the small gift wrapped box her only words to offer were "Don’t break it". Even in that tiny fragment of a sentence her view of me was apparent. Her belief in me was nonexistent. And her distain was almost overwhelming.

 

My thin fingers clenched tightly around the charm at the thought. I wore the necklace as a sign of elegance to my mother. She had given the gift as a way of saying only god could fix me.

 

Suddenly i heard the small clasp of the necklace break and the chain fell limp into my palm. I glanced down at the broken trinket in my hand. It must have weighed less than a few ounces but the moment it was off of my neck it held the weight of a shackle being removed. I knew I’d be punished for breaking it but part of me didn’t care. That small direct defiance of breaking the necklace did something to me. I felt...Empowered. Without thinking i tilted my hand to the side and the necklace slipped through my fingers and onto the tile floor with a clatter.

 

 I lifted my head and i looked in the mirror, really looked. And for the first time, i saw me. The real me. I didn’t search for my mother in the reflection, nor my father, or my grandparents, or anyone else that want something more from me. There was nothing more to see. That blemish. That scar. That facial feature. Every single flaw id once hated, was now one more thing that made me different. That made me unique

 

 It was in that moment that i realized i wasn’t forced to live up to another person's expectations. I didn’t have to be the perfect girl or daughter or student.

 

My only loyalty was to myself.

 

As i stared into that small rectangle of glass i knew i was no longer my mother’s daughter.

 

It was then that I truly became Rebekka Gray

 

 

Reviews

[Hiddenfire]

Ok yeah that was a cool opening. Loved the transition from talking about 'her' to realizing that 'her' is the narrator's mom. From then on I was hooked. This reads like the prologue to a book and I think it would make a very good one too. anyway was a fun read, thanks.

[Lora King]

I loved this having gone through almost the same s**t with my mother, you really took it to a meaningful place for me.... it was great thank you, and well done...
--L King

[Chris]

Well told.

[Tamia123]

This is breathtaking. As teenagers and young adults we all go through this faze and its amazing to see it in story form. Well done!

[RyanRey]

This was a really good idea for a short story. I also liked how you didn't stick to conventional paragraph format- it definitely made parts more dramatic. I like how in the end you realize that your identity isn't something that should be defined by others; rather, your identity is how you see yourself independent of other's perception of you. There are a few grammar mistakes, but great job.