So, I look at myself in the mirror, and the woman who stares back at me doesn’t at all resemble the woman I used to know.
This woman staring back at me is deep. In fact, she isn’t even staring at me; she’s glaring at me. Challenging me. Daring me to make a move. Because she knows that for every move I make, she’s got a counter move right up her sleeve.
This woman is interesting.
She’s soulful and warm, yet stern, cunning, and wise — all at the same time. She’s different. Not who I remember her to be.
This woman isn’t at all afraid to lean her head back and let out a hearty laugh from way deep down. Not afraid to shed salty tears when she’s sad or lonely; won’t hesitate to pray when necessary or asked to. And throws one mean tea party…ask any 5-year-old she knows.
Who is this woman, and where did she come from?
The woman I remember was timid and shy. Jumped at sudden noises, resisted challenges with every bone in her fragile, weak body. She was too careful, and too careless. Everyone she knew spoke for her; finished her sentences ’cause she couldn’t finish them herself. Yeah, that’s who I remember.
This woman in the mirror is vastly different, as I said. Clouded in mystery; yet transparency and boldness are her typical orders of the day. Born a native to the states, but linguistically apt, she dances in Caribbean rhythms and belts out old gospel hymns with an authoritative power that can only come from heaven. She whistles as she works with her hands, kisses boo-boos on skinned knees, feeds friends and enemies alike if they’re hungry, and hums low, steady, and strong – like an 80-year-old grandmother – as she prepares supper and does housework.
Not sure where this woman I see came from, or exactly where she is headed, but I plan to tag along to find out. If I had to speculate – knowing her upbringing- I’d surmise she’s a combination of her momma and her daddy, mixed with some grand- and great-grands, a bit of old-school with a new-school twist, and enough New York in her to stand out in the South but embrace it just the same.
This woman I see has Grown. Evolved. Changed. And I give God praise for it.