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The Reflection in My Mirror Tells the Truth of My Life
Thoughts about my 5-year journey of writing.
It was raining heavily today, and all programs were cancelled because driving was challenging, so I decided to do something unusual today: take a selfie. The best place I found was a mirror.
I stood before the mirror today, dressed with care, a flower in my hair, earrings gently catching the light. I had nowhere to go as there was water everywhere.
The reflection that looked back at me was not just an image but a story — my story.
The black ornate frame of the mirror seemed to hold a secret conversation between me and myself. I saw a smile of joy, eyes that had witnessed seasons of abundance and loss, and a face that had weathered time yet continued to show resilience.
I like mirrors and feel they have been part of my journey. In my younger days, they felt like critics. They measured my lips, skin, and clothes. Now looking into the glass, I see something more profound. I know the woman I have become through life’s tests and triumphs.
For many years, the candlestick in my living room stood tall at the centre of the reflection. It was more than a piece of décor. It symbolised the flame I have carried all my life—a light of love, hope, and strength.
